The Spirit Is Willing
by fullmoonrisin
Summary: What happens when "the Spirit" chooses to stay inside of a commander who should be dead. Post 3x07 fix-it. Multi chapter fic
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! Here's another post 3x07 Clexa fic for ya. I hope ya'll like it.

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The blood courses rapidly through Clarke's veins. She's sure it goes unnoticed, but her breath leaves her in short, frantic bursts, and her adrenaline has her keenly aware of every movement. Surprisingly, she is not afraid for herself right now. If she dies, Murphy is powerless against his captor.

"She'll know it was you." Clarke reasons, hands raised in surrender. She's always been a skilled manipulator of people and their whims and she's hoping the Fleimkepa can be swayed as well. Her hope is dashed only a moment later as the full extent of this plan is laid out to her.

"Skaikru weapon." Titus declares as he brandishes the firearm with a vaguely perceptible shake of his head. "In the hands of a Skaikru thief."

Clarke shakes her head trying to make the pieces fit together. So this was his plan? Murder and treason in order to protect Lexa. He was right: she would be angry, but he had to know that her wrath would be solely directed at _him_ if she realized the truth of his actions. Lexa had killed Gustus for a similar attempt on the alliance when his plan didn't involve murder.

Clarke doesn't have the time to point any of this out because Titus is beyond reason. Before she can properly register what is happening, her legs are carrying her across the room and the gunshots are ringing out. Murphy can do nothing from his bound position but sit and watch with growing anxiety as the bullets ricochet across different surfaces and some barely miss him.

What happens next is a maelstrom of activity that no one will be able to remember properly in a few hours. Just as Clarke runs for the door, she sees it just beginning to crack open as Titus fires off another round. 'Oh God no', she thinks as dread pools in the pit of her stomach and then suddenly, the world stops turning for a moment and everything freezes in place.

Lexa appears in front of her, standing with her mouth agape and looking winded. She utters the Commander's name under her own breath in her shock and follows Lexa's eyes down. She sees it. Titus sees it. And just as he drops his gun and forgets his quarrel with Wanheda, time speeds up again and both are racing forward to catch their Heda as she falls.

"Get her to the bed!" Clarke screams in a voice that hardly sounds like her own. She's in command, but she struggles to wave off the resilient pangs of fear as her hands press into Lexa's wound and oh….so much blood! The bedding will be ruined when this is all over, she's sure of that. She's also sure that she can't let Lexa die here. Not when they just found each other only moments ago. Not now, when her commander most wanted to live; and certainly not when peace is so fragile. No…she _needs_ to live; even more than Clarke desperately wants her to live.

Lexa looks up at Clarke's ferociously determined features with a deep fondness. She soaks every detail in, wanting this to be the vision she carries with her into her next journey. She's convinced that there's nothing that can be done but she's at peace. _Death is not the end._

"Clarke." Even though her voice is soft, it demands attention and Clarke looks up at her smile, which is far too radiant considering her condition. "Ai gonplei ste odon." Lexa wishes she could stay. She wishes she could've had more moments with this beautiful woman at her bedside, but it is her time and her spirit must be passed on.

Her words seem to trigger something and Lexa watches as Clarke gives way to Wanheda in an instant. She sees Titus at her side, preparing for some sort of ritual and a rage overtakes her unlike any she's felt since that day she was brought to Lexa's throne room bound and gagged.

"Titus go! Get the healers!" She roars, redoubling her efforts to stop the bleeding and forcing the man to falter in his preparations.

"I'm afraid that's not-"

The death glare she sends him sends chills up his spine. He is certain that she is the only one he's ever seen to rival a Heda with such ease and it takes him aback. The standoff lasts only a moment before Clarke feels a gentle touch on her arm and turns to lock eyes with Lexa, who, despite being gravely injured, is looking at her with the Commander's eyes.

"Clarke, he can't do that. It would require too many healers to help me and I dispatched a contingent to Tondc this morning."

The words are meant to convince Clarke to step back, but they do little to assuage the stubborn will power burning away in her eyes. In fact, it seems to burn even brighter as Lexa watches the gears turn inside her mind. There is a way. It's a long shot, but it's a way.

"But what if you had the two best healers…?" Her voice trails and she speaks to herself more than to Lexa, who is already figuring out her plan. "Titus, find Octavia. Tell her to find my mother."

"No." Lexa speaks, and the two turn to look at her. Titus has a question in his eyes, and Clarke has a thousand unspoken arguments in hers. "Find Indra."

"Indra?"

"She knows these lands far better than any of your people. She will know of a faster way."

Though his lips purse and he does not approve of ignoring tradition, Titus takes this statement as permission to abandon his responsibility for the moment and leaves the room. He keeps his head bowed in a mixture of shame and silent prayer that the Fleimkepa is not needed while he's gone.

Clarke doesn't know how long it's been since Titus left. Some part of her mind is still vaguely aware of Murphy's silent, yet awkward presence while Lexa fades in and out of consciousness somewhere between life and death. The knot of dread that settled in her stomach when she first laid eyes on the bullet wound is Clarke's only real company as she continues her work. The time drags by as if the very clock itself is as weary as Heda, and Clarke grows more impatient with each passing second. Judging by the position of the moon outside the window, it had to be somewhere past midnight. She begins to wonder if maybe Indra had been wounded herself…or worse.

Clarke is quick to shake her head of the thought; she needs her mother. There is something…not right. She continues her work with the stitching as she mulls it over in her mind. Clarke had been stubborn; set on saving Lexa's life, and so far she is doing well at the task, but…no human could survive losing so much blood. And yet here Lexa is.

It's not much later that the door opens and four people cross the threshold. Titus maintains a respectful distance in a corner near the door, having the decency to look embarrassed of himself when Octavia recognizes Murphy and goes to untie him. Indra notices as well and spares the man a subtle sneer as she rushes to her Commander's bedside along with Abby. Titus hadn't exactly been forthcoming on the details of the Commander's shooting, but she knows that this certainly is not Wanheda's doing and the Fleimkepa's downcast gaze speaks loudly. She is more than capable of connecting the dots and if she were in any position to have her way, his blood would spill.

Abby wastes no time laying out her surgical tools on the bed and assessing Clarke's progress as well Lexa's physical state. It seems her daughter has done well so far and she readies to take over when the sheer amount of blood catches her eye. Reflexively, she reaches out to feel for a pulse in spite of the fact that she can just barely see the gentle rise and fall of the young woman's chest.

"Clarke…" Abby speaks warily. She has no medical explanation for this and is struggling to grasp what she's seeing even as she and Clarke begin to work together on the wound.

"I know. I noticed."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Indra asks, interest piqued. Even the other three occupants in the room look on silently with inquisitive eyes as they wait for an answer.

"Lexa shouldn't be alive. It's medically impossible. See?" She gestures to the tar-like stains that soak the bed and seep onto the floor. Indra and Octavia both lean over to take a look and Indra lets out a gasp. "I'm sure as a warrior you know what this much blood outside the body means."

"Death." The warrior confirms.

"Then how is she…?" Octavia supplies from where she stands near the foot of the bed. They turn at the sound of Titus clearing his throat.

"If I may…" He ignores the various glares he receives from Indra, Octavia, and Murphy. "Perhaps the spirit is not yet willing to leave her."

There is an awkward moment of silence as the people of Skaikru present in the room process this seemingly unhelpful piece of information. Abby is the first to speak. "But that doesn't explain—"

Titus' mouth twitches up just the faintest bit. "The spirit of Heda is not as your people believe in spirits." His eyes turn to Clarke as he speaks. "Wanheda, look at her nape."

Clarke does as he asks, gently turning Lexa's head to the side to reveal the tattoo of the sacred symbol. She and her mother both take note of the vertical scar down the middle of the tattoo and the raised skin around it that indicates some foreign object just beneath the surface.

Neither speaks it out of respect for the Grounders and their culture, but both have come to the same conclusion: The spirit is some kind of device.

No. More than that.

Clarke thinks back on all the conversations she's had with Lexa that have given her insight into the customs of Heda. The spirit chooses each Commander. Lexa hears the voices of previous commanders and shares their memories.

The spirit is an AI. And clearly, it is capable of more than just storing memory and choosing leaders.

Thank you guys for reading! Next chapter will pick up with Clexa fluff!


	2. Chapter 2

It's a few hours later in the early morning light of the pre-dawn that Abby and Clarke deem Lexa stable enough to be moved to her own quarters. Servants are quick to enter Clarke's room and they waste no time in cleaning up the mess. While the blockade is still in place, Titus has delayed any kill order for the time being to allow Octavia and Murphy to return for the time being. Little does he know, she intends to use the delay to slip back and forth more easily between Polis and Arkadia so that plans can be made on how best to deal with the problem that is Pike.

Abby is busying herself with conducting another exam on her unconscious patient as her daughter silently drifts around the room lighting each of Lexa's many candles and bathing the room in an incandescent glow in the process. She is amazed at the life support capability of this previously unknown AI. Not only does it seem to be capable of regulating blood flow, heart rate, and body temperature, but it seems to have placed the commander into some sort of hibernation while she recovers from her trauma. Though the steady rise and fall of the woman's chest continues to be a comforting sign of life, she remains dead to the waking world—completely unresponsive to the stimuli of being moved or having dressings changed. Hell, Abby even shined a flashlight into her eyes at one point. If not for the physical signs akin to someone dreaming in REM sleep, she would think this is a coma.

Outside the Heda's sleeping chambers, a loud slap permeates the air. The hallway is thick with tension as Indra and Titus stand facing each other. The warrior's hackles are raised and she looks every bit like a fierce lioness ready to pounce on the meek little gazelle that is Lexa's Flamekeeper. She regards his reddened face with an accusatory gaze and her eyes narrow into slits as she speaks in a low growl.

"Yu bash op Heda."

There is an argument on the man's tongue. His intentions have always been to protect Heda and that's what he was trying to do, but it dies away as he remembers the moment he accidentally shot her and he bows his head in his renewed shame. He has failed his Heda. If she does not give him death, he surely deserves it for his actions.

"What were you thinking, _Fleimkepa_?" She all but spits his title at him in her disgust and her fury. "Do you know what it would mean if she were to die right now? When the Kongeda is so fragile?"

He nods faintly at this question, but dares not speak yet. He _does_ know. It is the very thing he is trying to prevent from happening because it would mean the unraveling of her entire legacy in one fell swoop as the clans turn against each other and descend into chaos. And yet…

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thought that they'd come so close to that reality the previous evening because of him.

"It would be madness." He agrees. "But, Indra, the people are hungry for blood and she refuses them."

Indra scoffs. "Our people have long been slaves to our own bloodlust. Perhaps it's time to teach the people that slaughter is not the same as survival."

Of course, she greatly resented the fact that skaikru warriors had slaughtered so many of her people and have yet to face retribution. But, truth be told, she grows weary of all the needless bloodshed committed by all of the clans and justified with flimsy excuses. Jus Drein Jus Daun has a very specific time and place, but she knows that it will be the destruction of her people if they continue to treat it as the only true way.

Heda Lexa understands that.

Titus, seemingly recovering some courage in the face of Indra's waning wrath opens his mouth to speak again. "I know that I have done wrong by our people and by Lexa. For that, I could never apologize enough. But, I will not apologize for doing my duty."

Indra's mouth twitches up at the irony of the word "duty". This man should be dead for the way he has done his duty. If he ever commits such treason again, she will see to that herself.

"You'd do well to remember that your duty is merely to advise, not make decisions on her behalf."

* * *

Three days and three nights have passed since the events of Ascension Day. On the afternoon of the fourth day, Clarke sits in a chair in Lexa's bedroom, bathing in the rays of sunlight that filter in through the large windows. She concentrates deeply on her drawing pad and her charcoal moves gracefully across the paper as she pencils in the details on a new sketch of Lexa that she'd started just days ago. Her eyes dart up to Lexa's sleeping form every now and then to reference certain details of features which haven't yet been committed fully to her memory. Every now and then, she thinks she sees movement out of the corner of her eye—the twitch of a finger or the slight jerk of a foot—but she quickly writes it off as a trick of the mind.

Her mother returns to the room a short time later with fresh bandages and sets to work changing the old ones. They had been sharing the responsibility of caring for Lexa to allow each other to rest.

Abby is just finished covering the stitches with fresh bandages after giving them a quick appraisal when Lexa's torso heaves underneath her hand and a long, deep sigh is heard through room.

"She's waking up!" Abby exclaims as Lexa's body begins to make the sluggish, lazy movements of slow wakefulness. Clarke perks up and quickly throws her drawing to the side, coming to the side of the bed. She gently takes Lexa's face in her hands and strokes tenderly at the soft skin beneath her thumbs as she waits patiently for those beautiful emerald eyes to look at her.

"Clarke?" She turns her face toward Clarke and leans into the warmth of her touch. Her voice sounds groggy and only slightly worn from disuse. And it is the most welcome sound in the world right now considering that just days ago she almost lost the chance to ever hear it again.

"I'm here." Clarke's smile stretches the width of her face and tears are streaming down toward her chin. She can't contain herself any longer; doesn't care that her mother is watching. She leans over and peppers soft kisses over Lexa's face: her forehead; her cheeks; her chin; and finally, her lips.

On instinct, Lexa brings her hand up to tangle it in that mane of blonde hair as each kiss pulls her further from sleep. Slowly, she becomes aware of another presence near her bedside and pulls away out of a sense of propriety. Her eyes finally open for the first time in nearly four days and the first thing she sees is Clarke.

Clarke, who is looking at her with eyes that shine with her love and her tears. Clarke, appears like an angel in the light of the sun and her candles. Clarke, who she finds herself becoming more and more devoted to with each passing day. Clarke, who refused to allow her to die not once, but three times, now.

And then the thought occurs to her. She had traveled to the City of Light. Seen things; troubling things. And if she went there after being shot then shouldn't that mean…

"Did I die?" She asks without preamble, with such bluntness that it takes the Griffin women aback. Her eyes search Clarke's for an answer, only finding confusion there as she offers an answer. "Not technically. Lexa…"

"I went to the City of Light while I was unconscious. That could only be possible if I had died."

"You were alive, but it wasn't medically possible." Abby offers and Lexa's sharp gaze snaps to her, willing her to explain. "You lost too much blood, but…that thing inside you—the spirit—kept you alive."

"I see." Lexa says. She looks as though she understands the significance of this explanation very acutely; as if this has happened before. More than that, she looks troubled by something more. Clarke sends her mother away hoping that she might be more open without another person in the room. With Abby gone, Clarke returns to the bedside and absently takes Lexa's hand between hers.

"Has this happened before?"

"Never to me." Lexa smiles fondly. She never thought the stories possible, but she's thankful they're true. "According to the legend, the first Commander suffered three deaths before the spirit finally left her on the fourth time."

Clarke's brow furrows in confusion and Lexa enjoys the sight; enjoys watching her Wanheda trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle when she does not yet have all of them. "Legend? But…wouldn't Titus have witnessed it?"

"You are technically correct. Titus has served as Fleimkepa since the first Heda. But the first Commander came before the clans had even formed. Before our language was first spoken."

"According to legend." Clarke points out playfully, cocking her head towards Lexa and the Commander guffaws lightly at the childish image it presents. She meets the blonde's expression with a raised eyebrow.

"What did I say about mockery, Clarke?"

"Sorry." Clarke shakes her head as a grin forms on her face. "You were talking about the first Commander?"

"She was the woman responsible for first forming and uniting the clans under her leadership…though, that unity clearly was not to last. Today, she is worshipped in our culture as something of a deity."

Clarke listens as Lexa speaks; reads her facial expressions. Lexa is the first leader since the first commander to successfully unite the twelve clans. Now, that coalition is on shaky ground with Clarke's people in the middle. She wonders if Lexa doubts her ability.

"Do you not believe you can keep the peace?" Clarke wonders out loud and those piercing green eyes meet hers, looking sorrowful, guilty, and far too heavily burdened for someone who just woke up.

"No, but I fear doing so may come at a price I cannot pay." Clarke; her people. The love she'd long thought lost since Costia's death.

Clarke's face crumples slightly as the weight of the confession landed on her heart. Her promise to Clarke keeps her from answering the demands for skaikru blood. Right now, she isn't sure the decimation of her people is such a bad thing. Thinking about it like this puts Titus' actions against her into perspective. Either way, she senses that they've set foot into a heavy subject best saved for another moment when Lexa hasn't just woken up from being shot. So, she clears her throat rather loudly and opts for a different topic.

"So…you mentioned something about the City of Light?"

And Lexa shakes her head at that. The troubles in the City of Light could wait for another day. Right now…

"It can wait. There are more important matters we must face first." She scoots over to make room on the bed. "Will you lay with me? I want a few moments of peace before I must attend to responsibility. Beja."

Clarke gladly assents, standing from the chair and sliding under the furs in one swift motion. The warmth of each other brings a comfort unlike anything else and they find themselves molding to each other as their limbs tangle. Lexa smiles as she feels Clarke bury her face into her hair. A thousand unspoken "I love you's" pass between each other through touch, but all the talking ceases for the moment.

* * *

Thanks for reading! We'll get into the action starting somewhere next chapter.

Just a quick note:

Yu bash op Heda- (roughly) You harm Heda.

Kongeda- Coalition

Beja- Please


	3. Chapter 3

Lexa is the first to wake from their nap sometime later. From the position of the sun outside her window, she guesses it couldn't have been more than an hour. Clarke's presence so close to her very quickly becomes a distraction as she feels her body heat, her weight, hears the sounds of soft snoring. Lexa cranes her head down to appreciate the view and admires the peace that Clarke seems to have found in sleep. Her many burdens are gone from the creases in her features and the commander thinks back to the drawing; how she had looked so similar in Clarke's delicate charcoal sketching.

 _Is this how she sees me?_

She shifts a bit and feels a pain in her torso, reminding her for the first time since waking up earlier of the sheer weight of the events which had transpired mere days ago. She knows how close she had come to death; knows how serious that would be in such a time of political unrest. The Commander places a deep trust in each of her naitblida; knows that they're loyalty runs deep. She also knows that toxic desire to please the people that is so common to each new Heda. Still, all she can bring herself to think is that she's glad it is her lying wounded in bed, and she would readily take a wound for Clarke again. She would take _death._

The mere thought that Clarke could've been killed—especially under her watch—causes her immense pain. She's surprised to find that she doesn't want Titus dead; she understands his actions, even. But she wants—needs—to know that Clarke will be safe in these walls. Within these walls is the only place that Lexa can guarantee that.

With this thought, she leans down to bring her lips to the sleeping woman's forehead as she gently strokes her cheek. Her lips trail down to meet Clarke's and she is surprised when she feels the pressure being softly reciprocated. Clarke mumbles her disapproval into Lexa's lips when the kiss is broken all too soon so that she may gaze upon her Wanheda's face. The moments pass them by as they lay like that, drinking each other in.

Clarke gazes at her with her head propped up in her hand in a manner very similar to their positions from the last time they laid together in this bed. The intensity of the fondness in her eyes steals Lexa's breath and leaves a lump in her throat that makes swallowing difficult. She looks as if she is trying to unravel all of Lexa's secrets in that one gaze; to read her mind.

"What?" Clarke asks softly; her eyes are suddenly shining with amusement. It is only in that moment that Lexa realizes she must've been trying to do the same. She smiles thoughtfully, unsure how to answer the question.

"Nothing….and everything."

Clarke simply offers an understanding grunt and a moment later leaves Lexa feeling a bit disappointed as she begins to move from the bed.

"Where are you going?"

There's that amusement again. Clarke muses that Lexa seems far more like a child in that moment then the composed, stoic leader of the twelve (thirteen) clans that she has grown accustomed to. It makes for quite the endearing sight.

"No where you aren't following, _Commander_."

"Oh?" Lexa raises a curious eyebrow, but takes the hand that is offered. Clarke reaches to help the other woman to her feet and is surprised to find that Lexa is far steadier on them than anticipated. She takes her hand again and leads them until they stand just outside of the bath room, where someone has already seen fit to draw a bath.

"It's been a few days." Clarke says. "Figured we could both use a bath."

With that statement, Lexa's eyes fall to Clarke's outfit and she realizes for the first time that she doesn't seem to have changed since Ascension Day. An immediate understanding of the implication follows: Clarke had forgotten to care for herself as Lexa slept for the last three days. It leaves a bittersweet feeling in her chest. She worries for Clarke's well-being, yet is touched that someone cares for her so unconditionally as to neglect basic needs.

The two undress each other slowly, tenderly. It's an action that contrasts with the last time they were in this position when the clothes were removed hurriedly in their desperate need to be closer before being parted for an indeterminate period of time. Not for the first time, Lexa admires the fresh ink of the tattoo on Clarke's right shoulder blade as she removes her shirt. It is the knot of the Skaikru together with her symbol…she knows that it is meant to represent Wanheda.

Clarke in turn traces her hands down Lexa's body as her eyes follow. The firm muscles built by years of a warrior's life tremor under her touch and she leaves a trail of fire in her wake. Nothing less should be expected from a woman of her reputation, Lexa silently muses as Clarke's hands stop at the bandaging. She studies the area intently with eyes and fingers and worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a brief moment.

She was lucky. _They were lucky._

With clothes shed, the pair situate themselves in the tub. While nothing in Polis has running water; the structure and size of the tub is still far more luxurious than the tub in the guest quarters where Clarke resides. It is, perhaps, the only thing she has seen in all of the clan territory that resembles marble and she wonders if it was made specifically for Heda.

She sits with her back against the edge of the tub and the weight of Lexa against her chest. Both of them keep their eyes closed in the blissful peace of the moment; savoring what little they have left of this time away from obligation. In here there is no Heda or Wanheda. There is only Clarke and Lexa.

There are a thousand thoughts about the coming war brewing in Lexa's head in that solitude, but she keeps them silent…refuses to let duty cast a cloud over this moment. She kneeled before Clarke and pledged fealty to the people of Skaikru, but she could feel the day fast approaching which would force her to choose between that vow and the rest of her people. If not…

Lexa feels Clarke's chin come to rest on her shoulder and a hand begins idly tracing the pattern of the tattoo on her arm. It's as if she instinctively knows the path that the Commander's thoughts have taken. She says nothing, waiting patiently for Lexa to speak her mind.

There's a deep sigh and then: "What will you do, Clarke? How will you save your people?"

This is new for her and the weight of the questions leaves her surprised. These are not mere questions. Lexa asks for reassurance; for solace, even. Clarke has never seen her appear anything less than confident and assured. She wishes she could offer what her Heda asks, but:

"Well, I'm hoping the time you've given them will be enough for them to save themselves."

"And if it's not?" Lexa questions, meeting her gaze pointedly. "I will honor my vow to you for as long as you demand, Clarke, but I'm afraid the rest of my people will not endure more bloodshed at the hands of Skaikru. You witnessed the assassination attempt on Ascension Day."

Clarke listens, allows Lexa to fret for just this little while. And she gets it; she does. She aims to save her people, and yet they seem bent on their own destruction at every turn. She knows that she can't give up on them yet, however. Destroying Skaikru will do nothing to end the cycle of violence among the clans. If there is a way to be found to resolve this peacefully, Clarke swears that she will find it.

Mulling over Lexa's concern, there is one thing that stands out in her mind.

"Our people?"

"I did vow to treat your people as my own." Lexa reminds Clarke, looking down at where there hands knotted together in front of her.

"But Pike rejected the brand."

Lexa burrows further into the body behind her in response. "That does not mean that _I_ have, Clarke." She takes Clarke's hand and holds it to her chest. "The people of Skaikru have so much potential; I have seen this. Yet, it is squandered on their petty quarrels."At this, she turns her head and holds Clarke's gaze, having grown weary of talking politics. "Now, can we be done with this subject? I much prefer to leave duty outside of this room."

"So what do you want then?" Clarke asks and her voice is low and captivated in a way that speaks of the depth of what she feels in that moment. Lexa gives no reply, simply closing the space between them and taking the other woman's lips with her own in a kiss that grows deeper with need and emotion in each passing second.

The time comes all too soon that the water runs cold and the pair reluctantly leaves the solitude of the bath. They both instinctively know that this is it; the last moment of calm that either of them will have for the coming days. They dress slowly, dwelling in this quiet before they must return to duty. Clarke takes this moment to return attention to Lexa's dressing. Gently, she peels the bandage away to reveal the stitched up wound underneath. It looks good; better than it should considering how little time has passed, although Clarke has no doubt it will still cause the Commander pain for the near future. Satisfied with the progression of the healing process, Clarke applies fresh bandages to the wound.

Almost as soon as Lexa pulls her shirt over her head and both women are dressed, there comes a knock at the door.

"Enter." Lexa calls.

The door opens to reveal Titus and Clarke is all at once surprised and expectant. He was avoidant during her sleep, only coming to sit with Lexa once when Abby insisted on forcing Clarke to eat. Even now he lacks the easy confidence that he usually held in the presence of his Heda and his shoulders are slumped slightly.

"Forgive the intrusion, Heda." He says, clearing his throat. She waves him off and he continues with what he'd come to say. "The blockade has been in place for three days, now. I halted the kill order in the interim in case the worst happened after…" His voice trails and his eyes fall to the floor before he recovers, clearing his throat again. "At any rate, the blockade is ready to commence the kill order on your command."

"Thank you, Titus. Is that all?" She is all business, dutifully ignoring the elephant in the room for the time being; the twinge she feels in her gut makes this task marginally more difficult.

Titus shakes his head at her question. "You should know, the Skaikru girl called Octavia has been using the delay to sneak between Arkadia and Polis with news." He is speaking; giving her information, but the words come out as if his mind is not present. He lacks his usual keen sense of focus. He turns to Clarke with subtle pleading in his eyes. He cannot bear to be this close to Heda so soon. He is not worthy of her presence.

"In fact, Wanheda, I believe she waits in your quarters with your mother. Would you give us a moment?"

Clarke nods silently, moving past Titus. She only stops to briefly lock eyes with him on the way out the door and a look of understanding passes between them. She knows why he did what he did and this experience will no doubt deter him from acting so rashly in the future.

Whether or not Lexa is so understanding is a very different matter.

A moment later the door clicks shut and an uneasy Flamekeeper is left standing alone with his Heda. Heda, who waits patiently for him to speak even as she still recovers from his poorly aimed bullet. The moments stretch between them like a deep chasm until Titus can no longer bear the tention.

"Heda, I—" A thousand apologies threaten to burst from his lips the moment his mouth opens, yet that is not what he came to do. He also knows that none of them would ever be enough for what he's done. _Spirits forgive me,_ he thinks to himself. A heavy sigh leaves his lungs and his eyes drop shut against the wait of his guilt.

All the while Lexa remains passive only three feet in front of him. She allows him this moment to collect himself.

"Is it true? You visited the Sonchakapa?"

"It is."

The question makes her curious. She has visited the city many times through meditation and Titus knows that. It makes her wonder what exactly his interest is.

"So you know then?"

"About the Sky People who visit? The corruption it brings them? Yes." Lexa wonders how Titus came by this information for himself, and in some part of her mind, she has the pieces to put together to draw that conclusion, but she opts to wait instead. There are other questions to be asked.

"But how?"

She watches as the Flamekeeper reaches into his robes and produces a tiny rhomboid object. She takes it from him, observing it intently under keen eyes. It's foreign, not of anything made by the clans…not even Skaikru. And yet, it bears the Sacred Symbol. She assumes it to be some sort of technology that has made its way into Skaikru hands through an unknown series of events. But how did Titus come to be in possession? Her mind flashes back rapidly to the sound of gunshots, Clarke on the floor in her disheveled quarters, and a fresh bullet wound. She'd paid no mind at the time, but there is a vague picture in her head of some faceless boy, held captive in the corner as she bleeds. She had fleetingly imagined him to be a figment of her imagination in what should've been her final moments, but now she is not so sure.

"Titus…" He cringes at the tone in her voice. There is no malice, no anger, but it carries a foreboding quality that warns him of her wrath should he misspeak. "We both know that there are no guns in Polis, and yet, you shot me." She ignores the wince that her words incur. "Is it a reasonable assumption to assume that you acquired this object and the weapon from the same person?"

"Sha, Heda."

She stares him down, her eyes piercing through him as if she's trying to look into his very soul. He shifts uncomfortably under the intensity of the gaze.

"And was that person, at any point, tied up in Clarke's quarters?"

"Heda, I—"

"Shof op!" She snaps sharply, her brewing anger briefly breaks through her calm façade before she forces it back down. "You will answer the question."

"Yes." Titus sighs, hanging his head. "Yes, he was."

Lexa's arms fold across her chest and she considers this information. Putting all of the pieces into place and the conclusion makes what could've happened that evening so much more terrible.

"You attempted to frame Skaikru for Clarke's murder?!" She barks, and he cringes under the onslaught. He knows he has it coming. He will understand if she chooses to end his life. And in that moment, she wants to. Oh, does she want to…but she's also aware that there are a number of reasons why that is a bad idea.

"I was trying to protect you." He states simply. It is not justification or even a rationale for his actions…just a simple truth. Given the way everything happened, it is a truth that sounds absurd to hear voiced out loud.

Lexa thinks about the brewing dissent among her people, the assassination attempt earlier that morning, and while she disapproves of his actions, she does understand. She'd be far more furious if the worst had happened to Clarke.

"I know."

Titus looks up at her in surprise. He had not expected to garner her understanding on this subject.

"I know you mean well, Titus, and I know that you feel shame." Her soft tone hardens a bit in a way that demands his attention at her next word. "But understand this: I would gladly take any bullet you shoot at Clarke for myself."

He opens his mouth to argue and she raises a hand to silence him. She is not finished yet. "I meant what I said. I am more than capable of separating my feelings from my duty. It may not always seem that way to you, but you need to trust that."

"She's going to be the death of you." He warns, having grown comfortable in Lexa's deceptively soft demeanor, but at once, it shatters and she fixes him with a cold stare. "Then so be it. If I die, I die for peace."

She's pacing around him now and he feels much like the prey being circled by the predator. "I promised Clarke my protection in these walls and I will not have you threatening her safety." The authority she projects in her voice and her posture demands obedience and silences any argument he may have had. "I will not have Clarke in danger inside this tower—inside this _city._ "

She could do little to offer Clarke protection in the lands around Arkadia, but she'd be damned if harm came to her here, where the power of Heda is strongest. Lexa stops her pacing and comes to stand directly in front of Titus with her arms folded behind her back. Her eyes cut through him like lasers through the darkness.

"Yu nou trana bash op Klark nodotaim nowe. Swega em klin."

Titus nods furiously in response, he knows he's lucky to have come out of this with a simple warning and that he won't be so lucky again.

"I swear it, Heda."

She offers him a solemn nod in return, sensing that they may have finally reached something of an agreement on this long debated issue.

"Good. You may go." He bows to her and turns to take his leave, but she calls him back just as he reaches the door.

"Be warned: I will not tolerate this treachery from you a second time."

That's three. I didn't really get to the action part, but it's coming!

The last line of Trigedasleng is taken directly from Lexa's final command to Titus in 3x07. If you've watched that scene, you know what it means, if not: "You will never again attempt to harm Clarke. Swear it."

Sonchageda-City of Light


	4. Chapter 4

"Octavia." Clarke breathes, relief flooding through her to see that her friend has made it back safely from Arkadia. She briefly takes her into her arms for a moment before stepping back with a curious expression. "You have news?"

Octavia nods, "Yes, but how's Lexa?"

"Healing well." Clarke states, touched by the concern, "She's already on her feet." At this, her mother cocks her head at her with interest and goes to leave the room. Surely it isn't healthy for the wounded Commander to be walking around so soon."

The two dismiss Abby's presence and turn to face each other more openly. Back to business, Clarke muses. She wishes that 'someday' could be today, that there is peace among the people. She is grateful to her mom and Octavia for allowing her a few more days of respite from this reality; they've been secretly convening with Kane while Clarke has been consumed by concern for Lexa. But, obligation has finally come knocking at her door and Clarke must answer.

"So, how much time do we have?"

"Not long." Octavia answers, worrying her bottom lip in thought. "The scouts found the blockade two days ago, and Pike's grown more paranoid since. Oh, and Kane says he can't cover for your mother much longer either." She says with a roll of her eyes.

"He may not have to." Clarke whispers, and her eyes are vacant as the gears turn inside her mind, revealing to Octavia the machinations being planned inside of that clever head.

"The kill order will go into effect soon. No doubt Pike believes he can defeat the blockade." Clarke explains, "Skaikru may have guns, but our numbers are nowhere near a match for the armies of the twelve clans. If we can make his supporters see that…"

"And if they don't?"

At the sound of another person's voice, Clarke and Octavia turn to see Abby and Lexa standing in the doorway.

Clarke swallows thickly, knowing that what she's about to say will be met with resistance from at least two of the other women. And she's right. Her mother lets out a scandalized "Clarke" and Octavia bores into her with a glare when she meets Lexa's gaze and says "March on them."

She hopes deeply that she can reason with her people, but she knows in her gut that this will be her final chance to do it peacefully and if she fails, she will not ask Lexa to risk her own life keeping that vow. So, she stares down the other two women and makes her case. "Five miles is more than enough distance. If this fails, we can work with Kane to get anyone who opposes Pike out."

"That's the problem." Abby points out. "Most of the camp opposes him, but he oppresses dissent."

"But mom, if we fail, then our people will continue on this path of destruction." Her eyes burn with determination and a desire to stop that very outcome; _driven to fix everything for everyone._ "Then the alliance crumbles, and war and bloodshed will continue to be _everyone's_ reality. Victory stands on the back of sacrifice, but so does peace. If the worst comes to pass we can rebuild…just like we did when we came to Earth."

Lexa watches calmly as mother and daughter begin to bicker back and forth. She is prepared to back whichever option they deem the most reasonable and simply observes and listens as they hash it out, though she does find herself captivated by Clarke's impassioned words. Her eyes fall to Octavia, who looks as if she is debating stepping into the fray. Lexa can see the thoughts that swim around in her mind.

"What if there's another way?" She asks finally, drawing the attention of three pairs of eyes.

"What plan have you come up with, Oktaveia kom Skaikru?" Lexa asks with a keen interest, watching the girl with rapt attention.

"What if we don't just depose Pike? What if we incite a coup by exposing him?"

"And how will you do that?"

"Pike's regime is oppressive; he keeps any dissent from spreading, but he doesn't do that publicly. And he's able to make his decisions seem rational. His supporters don't see the monster he really is." Octavia's mind wanders to her brother and how Pike swooped in to take advantage of him in his depression. Truth be told, she would've kicked his ass ages ago if it wouldn't have drawn too much unwanted attention.

Her eyes flit over to Clarke. "Your skill is manipulation. What if you could lure him into a public debate and show him for who he really is?"

Lexa was unsure of that plan. It seemed extremely risky. If something were to go wrong…

"How do you know he would agree to such a thing?"

Octavia and Abby share a knowing smile at the question, and it's Clarke's mother who answers. "He hasn't exactly made a secret of his dislike for Clarke. He's been waiting to humiliate her for a while now."

Lexa nods sagely. She bows her head in thought as she considers the various points made in the course of this conversation. Suddenly, a lump forms in her throat as she realizes that Clarke might not come back and she swallows deeply in effort to stave off the tears.

"It is settled then. You will depart immediately and the kill order will be put in place upon your arrival to the blockade." She clears her throat and prepares to turn on her heel when Clarke's voice stops her.

"No."

Lexa cranes her head toward Clarke and offers a questioning gaze.

"My mother stays."

"Clarke." Abby hisses sharply. These are her people just as much as her daughters, and she's one of the Sky People's best doctors. She will not be forced to sit this one out on the sidelines. Clarke isn't having any of her arguments though and silences her mother with one well-placed point.

"Mom, I can't have Pike using family against me." Abby's shoulders slump in defeat and she sighs.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

As Clarke and Octavia leave the room to go make their travel preparations, Abby stays behind. She places a hand on the door and shuts it as Lexa attempts to leave the room as well. The commander's widened eyes meet hers with an expression that prompts her to explain and she simply stares back with the eyes of a mother worried for her child. Lexa knows what this is. This is protection.

"Look, I've seen a glimpse of how you and Clarke are with each other. I know you care for her, and I know she cares for you. But don't hurt her again." Abby speaks, allowing her lingering distrust of the Commander to rise to the surface. But as she stands in front of her now, it's hard to believe that this is the same youthful woman who betrayed them at the mountain.

"Never." Lexa says with such utter sincerity that it leaves Abby reeling. Clarke's mother doesn't know of the vow, but she wants to make her feel the vow in her words and her actions. She compels the older woman to understand the depth of her devotion to Clarke with that single sentence; to understand the meaning of her stalled action against Skaikru.

She believes, as Abby nods and takes a step away from her personal space, that she does understand.

"I just don't want another Mt. Weather for Clarke…or my people." She breathes out the confession, wondering why she feels so comfortable being this open with the Commander of the clans who is a hair away from laying siege to her people.

"On that, we can agree." Lexa smiles.

* * *

The sun has dipped low into the sky by the time Octavia and Clarke prepare to leave and the light of dusk creates a beautifully eerie orange glow in the sky around them. The horses have been brought to the tower and they've just finished loading what little they plan to take in the saddlebags. Clarke pats herself once to check that she's remembered the pistol Titus used earlier. Octavia says a few quick words to Abby and Lexa and hands over a small radio to the former before walking away to mount her horse.

Clarke steps up to her mother, both women looking very conflicted. Clarke knows how difficult this is for her mom; watching her only daughter ride off into some unknown. It is in the Griffin blood to fight for what is right and to stand up for those who deserve justice. She knows the ache that eats away at the older woman's stomach is more than just maternal concern. It's the pain of forced passivity.

Clarke wraps her arms around her mother with a resigned sigh, clinging tightly around her neck just as she did when she was a child. Abby savors this moment with her child; commits it to memory and prays to the stars that Clarke comes back safely.

"May we meet again." Abby says solemnly, stepping back and running a loving hand down her daughter's face. Clarke gives a nod as her mother steps back and Lexa takes her place. In an instant, Clarke's stoic features begin to show signs of crumbling as the reality of what she's about to attempt crashes into her like a wave.

Lexa is there before her, holding her face between her warriors palms and acting as a bouy in the sea of Clarke's emotions. She doesn't know as she rests her forehead against Lexa's that she's having the same effect on the Commander's own doubts. She doesn't dare close her eyes; doesn't want to miss a moment of the time she has left to commit the exact shade of Lexa's eyes to memory, or the exact curve of her lips. Words not yet spoken are on each of their lips, but they don't say them. Neither wants to promise something they might not get a chance to keep right now.

They don't part from each other until Octavia whistles from where she sits atop her horse. Clarke nods her head and gathers the willpower to pull herself away from her Heda, who is looking unabashedly at her with a watery smile. It's almost too much.

Lexa offers her hand much as she had just days before as Clarke steps back to put some space between them.

"Safe passage on your travels." She murmers as they grasp eachothers' forearms. Clarke blinks rapidly in response as she tries to recall a time when Lexa might have come to learn the Sky People's prayer. A smile makes its way to her lips despite their circumstances.

"May we meet again."

She backs away from Lexa for several steps in effort to keep their eyes locked as long as possible before she finally turns. She has almost made it to her horse before she stops short and Lexa has just enough time to register confusion as Clarke runs at her and a moment later her arms are full with her lover. She grabs Lexa's face between her hands and kisses her vigorously enough to cause her mother to turn away from the sight. Like the last one, this moment is over too soon and both of them are undone now. The tears run silently down their faces as they part and take each other in one more time. Lexa grins.

"Now go." She says, gently nudging Clarke away. "Your people need you, Clarke."

"Our people." Clarke corrects, remembering their earlier conversation.

Lexa stands and watches the horses ride further and further from sight until they're out of view and have surely made it through the Polis gates. Suddenly, the dulling, yet ever present pain in her gut is a heavy reminder of their shared burdens. So to, is the chip that sits passively by in her pocket, waiting to come upon someone else who may use it as they should not. Her right hand curls around the chip and she glances down at it, studying the Sacred Symbol it bears.

Her troubled expression finds the path toward the gates one last time before she goes to follow Clarke's mother back into the walls of the palace.

* * *

It's late in Arkadia and many of its residents have begun turning in for the night. While the bustle of activity within the camp can still be heard, it grows more quiet as the moon rises higher into the sky. Pike stands in his war room and pours over a map as if he is staring at a chess board. In a way, he believes he is. He has to anticipate every move the grounders make and be three steps ahead. The problem is that he didn't anticipate a blockade from all sides. It can't be long before they march on Arkadia; that can be the only reason. But their commander forgets that the Sky People have guns.

He's interrupted from his silent brooding when he senses a presence standing in the doorway. The Chancellor raises his head to look at his predecessor.

"Marcus?" Curiosity and maybe even a little suspicion seep into his voice. "What brings you here at this hour?"

The man unfolds his arms and walks more fully into the room with a deceptively friendly smile on his face. "I could ask you the same, Pike." His eyes flit down to the map spread out across the table and his hand makes a sweeping motion as he asks a question he already knows—fears—the answer to. "What's all this?"

"The Grounders are boxing us in—you know that; no doubt they intend to steadily move closer until they get close enough to invade. I plan on breaking this siege before it goes too far."

"It's not really a siege if no shots have been fired yet." Kane mutters, just loud enough for statement to be heard and Pike seems visibly affronted for a moment.

"Inside these walls, our people become sitting ducks against their numbers. I'm taking the fight out there." He sharply points a finger at the door to emphasize his point and bores into Kane, who stares right back.

"And our soldiers will be sitting ducks out _there_ against twelve armies. You don't know the power you're up against here."

Of course, Pike wasn't really up against Lexa's armies anywhere but inside his own head _yet_ , but Kane had something of a stake in this matter, so he played along as if that were a truth.

"I know that we have heavy weapons on our side. They're swords can't compete with our bullets." Pike argued stubbornly and Marcus shook his head in disbelief at this ignorance.

"Our bullets won't compete with their sheer numbers, training, and superior battle tactics."

"Save it, Kane. I will find a way to break through that blockade." At this, Kane clenches a fist and his jaw tightens in his frustration. This can't go on much longer and he knows it, but he's powerless to stop it.

"It appears we've reached an impasse, Chancellor." Kane says, deflated.

"It appears we have." Pike takes a seat, leaning his elbows on the table and folding his hands in front of his face. "What do you suggest we do about that?"

Kane studies the tile on the floor in thought. That's the question of the day, he muses. He remembers Clarke mentioning a grounder tradition used in challenges against leader ship and an idea comes to mind as his head snaps up to lock eyes with Pike.

"I challenge you for the Chancellorship."

Pike's eyebrows shoot to the top of his head and his face is a mixture of surprise and amusement. "What's the challenge?" He chuckles, though the mockery is tinged with genuine interest. He's taking the bait, Kane can sense it.

"One on one combat."

Pike makes a clicking sound with his teeth and nods agreeably. "Alright. Since you issued the challenge; name your terms."

Kane speaks quickly, but not so quick as to give away the notion that he's been thinking of Pike's removal for as long as he has.

"Winner gets the Chancellorship; loser is jailed to await trial. We fight at dawn."

Pike extends his hand and Kane takes it in his own.

"Alright then, it's agreed." The smile on his face turns foul and Kane gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the next words.

"For now, you'll understand if your sleeping arrangements tonight are a bit…different."

Pike calls for a guard and before Marcus has time to process the turn this has taken he finds himself being shackled as he's yanked back toward the door. He glares daggers at the Chancellor who in turn offers a half smirk to his challenger.

"See you at dawn, Marcus."

There's four! I hope y'all like it as much as I enjoy writing it. More action to come in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

The pair travel for most of the night and into the next morning. It is closing in on dawn by the time they reach the blockade and, by now, it's two miles behind them. The first rays of morning light are just beginning to color the horizon off in the distance. Clarke pushes her horse onward as what she is about to attempt becomes more real to her. With each beat of a hoof against the hard earth, she grows more aware of the precariousness of the situation. If this attempt fails, there will be no more trying. She knows that Lexa's hands are all but tied on the matter. If Heda wishes to prevent an all-out revolt, it is in her best interest to move against Arkadia. The fleeting thought occurs to Clarke that Lexa might have something to worry about from the rest of the ambassadors in her absence.

She's not afforded time to entertain that notion. Octavia stops her mount short and Clarke reflexively does the same. She follows the other woman's eyes to the distance where there is movement. It'll be one of the morning perimeter scouts, they both know it. Clarke wracks her brain for a way out of this situation without being seen, but she can tell by the man's behavior that they've been seen; can see it in the way he pauses in his stride as if uncertain he's spotted someone. She reaches inside her coat for the pistol that's tucked inside and out of the corner of her eye sees Octavia begin to reach for her own weapon. But…

Why isn't he aiming his weapon at them yet? A few more strides reveals the answer and sees Octavia spring from her horse in a mad dash to get closer to the stocky figure, who embraces her in turn. Clarke lets out a breath of relief as she rides closer, ushering Octavia's abandoned mare forward.

"Lincoln." Surprise colors the huskiness in her voice and she finds herself beyond elated to see a friendly face at this particular moment.

He acknowledges her with a stoic nod before redirecting his attention to Octavia, who looks somewhat less than surprised to see him as he searches her face with an appraising eye.

"Abby told me you'd be coming. I made sure I got the dawn patrol." He cocks his head toward a nearby tree. "It would be best to tie the horses here.

The trio move deliberately, being careful of any possible detection as they delve further into Skaikru territory. The outer wall of the camp looms just ahead and there is a distinct lack of opposition thus far. It's not an unusual thing, considering that the early morning hours always see Arkadia less guarded. What _is_ suspicious is the sight of the watch towers which sit unattended.

"Where are all the guards?" Octavia wonders out loud, giving voice to Clarke's own thoughts.

Lincoln looks a bit uneasy as he glances toward the parapet. "They were needed for 'interior security'

"What does that mean?" The paranoid part of Clarke's mind wonders if Pike had actually anticipated their arrival…if these seemingly lax security measures were a strategy to draw them in. She'd do the same.

Her heart pounds in her ears and she treads forward with anxiety settling heavily on her with that thought.

Marcus sits in the corner of his cell, red eyed with sleep deprivation. The only company he has for the moment is the darkness—there are no windows. The guards let up in their harassment some time ago and he's long since stopped trying to figure out what time it is. Soon enough, a sound pierces the silence once again and he dreads the return of the guards. He can hear the heavy footfalls of the boots as an unknown person treads closer to his cell.

Light leaks into the room with the harsh sound of metal grating against metal and he shields his sensitive eyes from it. He can just make out the silhouette of a man who stands rigid with his hands behind his back in the doorway.

"Good morning, Marcus." Pike greets his opponent with a jovial attitude that Kane knows all too well hides the true nature of the beast underneath. Just as his vision begins to adjust to the light, he finds himself being hauled up to his feet roughly. Pike steps closer and his face comes into focus.

"It's time."

The guards roughly shove a bruised and weary Kane through the door and usher him through the halls. It's a long trip through the complex; Pike makes a show of parading the man through the halls in front of curious onlookers as they make their way toward the complex. Jaha, Raven, Bellamy, and even a recently arrived Murphy look up from their respective routines with expressions ranging from curiosity and concern, to surprise and indifference.

It's a lengthy and drawn out ordeal and their little show has gathered followers, but they finally make it to the courtyard where the crowd gathers to find out what is happening. They know of Kane's disapproval for Pike, but even the people among Skaikru who support the Chancellor know his predecessor as a sensible man. They wonder what he has done to receive the beating that is evident in his appearance.

The guards let go of Kane and he stands on wobbly legs. Only his determination to stand defiant against the man before him keeps him upright and he knows that winning this fight is a lofty proposition at best.

Pike stands before the crowd, eyes scanning over each person. He feels his authority and projects it to his people as he begins to speak.

"This man has issued a challenge for the title of Chancellor." His voice booms through the courtyard and he points a finger toward Marcus. "A one on one fight. The loser will be subject to imprisonment." He smirks sideways at Kane. The man who dared to challenge his authority had already received a taste of what his incarceration would be like.

With a nod to the guards, he turns on his heel toward Marcus and approaches him briskly. Marcus throws out the first punch as his opponent nears, but Pike dodges and catches his challenger with an undercut to the gut.

"What is that?" Clarke looks toward the top of Arkadia's perimeter wall with a curious expression as the trio continue to move toward the secret passage. They can hear what sounds like cheers jumbled with other yells and both women turn to Lincoln for an answer.

"Kane." He sighs "He challenged Pike to a battle for the Chancellorship."

Octavia bristles. "Why would he do that? That wasn't the plan."

Lincoln nods in understanding. "We ran out of time. Pike was planning to attack the blockade." He shrugs.

Clarke takes in the information silently, mulling it over in her mind. She thinks about the blockade and Kane's seemingly rash actions, but…they had to fit in there somewhere.

"He wasn't just preventing an attack." Clarke realizes. "He's giving us a diversion."

They finally reach the loose panel and Lincoln yanks it loose. The three manage to slip in unnoticed and Clarke turns her attention to the other two. Before she can confront Pike she has to make sure that all of her people can be heard.

"Lincoln, do you know where Pike's keeping any prisoners?"

He nods silently.

"Okay, go." She gestures for Octavia to follow him. "Get them out. I'll go find Pike."

* * *

The light has yet to touch the soil in Polis, yet deep inside the palace walls, preparations are in place for an early morning summit with the ambassadors. Lexa wants them to hear—wants them to know—the lengths that Skaikru go to eliminate the cancer that plagues their people and threatens the rest of the clans with bloodshed. She wants them to know that she is not favoring Skaikru above their own clans, and if Clarke should fail in her mission, they will be the first to hear the order for Arkadia's destruction. It's an order she hopes she won't have to give.

The handmaidens tend to their Heda as she stands in front of the mirror in her private quarters. They busy themselves with putting her hair into its signature braids, then she stretches her arms out while two of them slip the overcoat onto her shoulders. The shoulder guard and sash are handed to her last and she fastens the piece over her chest with nimble fingers.

"Mochoff. Gon we." She dismisses her handmaidens, giving them a silent nod before turning back to stare contemplatively at her own reflection. She feels the weight of this battle unlike any war she's ever waged, but such is the burden of attempting to wage peace, she supposes.

She hears the door open and, surprised, turns to see Abby. The corner of her mouth ticks up the slightest bit; it seems mother and daughter share the same lack of understanding for the full extent of the courtesy demanded by the title of Heda. In a way it's nice.

"May I help you?"

Abby says nothing; just looks at the young woman before her for a moment. To the untrained eye, her posture appears straight and rigid like the leader she is, but the doctor can see how her back bends just slightly and a hint of pain sits in her eyes. She walks forward and prods at the mending wound, prompting a wince out of the commander as she draws away from the touch.

"Sit down." Abby demands, leading Lexa back toward her bed and the commander bristles for a moment. Abby's hands are careful of her overcoat, moving her shirt up to reveal the stitching. Some of it has been popped since she last dressed the healing wound and she sighs in aggravation.

"You're over working yourself. You really shouldn't have been so hands on with your students last evening."

"How else were they to learn?" Lexa questions pointedly, arching an eyebrow at the older woman. Abby sighs in return, shooting an unamused look at the commander only to find her looking back with a peculiar fondness in her eyes.

"You're a nurturer." Lexa remarks simply, drawing Abby's attention back away from her work as she prompts for an explanation through her expression. "Clarke is much like you."

"Sometimes I'm not so sure." She huffs, and neither is entirely sure whether she means that as an insult or a compliment. Clarke has always had that drive that makes a natural leader…that makes a person more than just a good leader. She also has learned not to shy away from the seemingly immoral decisions for the good of all; Abby isn't sure if that shows strength of character or if it's a character flaw. Still, she can't help but remember what Marcus had pointed out during an execution ceremony not too long ago. Their methods weren't so different from the grounders.

"You know…that's something we learned in space, and I suspect the same is true on the ground; that caring for each other is important."

"It is." Lexa agrees with a nod.

"I don't know why I'm so hard on Clarke for her decisions, especially coming from a dying space station. People were chosen to be floated so that the entire population could have enough oxygen. Maybe I expected different from Earth?"

Lexa studies the woman with a knowing gaze as her deft fingers continue their work on the partially busted stitches. "Perhaps you hoped for different for your daughter."

And Abby concedes the truth of the statement with a slight shrug and a nod of her head. "Maybe. I never wanted her to know the brutality of the sacrifices we had to make."

"It's a burden no one should bear." Lexa agrees, "But there are times when survival requires seemingly heartless decisions. Just as you took no joy in sending your own people to die for the sake of the rest, I took none in leaving you to the mountain those months ago."

At the mention of Mt. Weather, Abby's eyes snap up and Lexa is met with the wariness behind them; the concern for her people. 'Never again', they say to her. The commander holds her gaze and is unshaken, ready to offer the reassurance Clarke's mother seeks from her.

"Survival requires sacrifice, but peace asks for sacrifice of a different kind. I have sworn to treat your people as my own and I have honored that oath to bring peace to the clans even as they threaten war. I will not march on Arkadia unless they give me no choice. The only blood I ask for is Pike's."

Maybe it's that shared Griffin trait of treating people as more than just their status, but Lexa finds herself laid bare before this woman in a way that's only similar with Clarke. She knows that Clarke's mother doesn't see her as Heda, but as the young sensitive woman she is, burdened with the weight of thousands of lives. And as Heda and Lexa, she implores both understanding and forgiveness to the healer and offers a dozen silent apologies and promises. She hopes that this can finally start mending Abby's own wounds from that day.

Abby stares her down, having finished the stitching, but she doesn't speak. Before she can, there is a knock on the door and one of Lexa's servants silently opens it.

"Heda, the ambassadors have arrived."

* * *

Kane grunts as Pike's fist slams into his bloodied face. Both men are bleeding and sweaty, but Marcus bears the brunt of the injuries. His will has kept him standing on his weakened legs and it's clear that this fight has not been kind to him, but he remains defiant. He swings once, misses, and haphazardly manages to dodge the left hook that Pike throws in return.

Neither man could say how long they've been at it. The sweat drips down both their faces; soaks their shirts. People in the crowd cheer the fight on while some argue with the guards to let them break it up. It's obvious that this fight is unfair. Others among the Sky People gamble on the winner, though betting against Pike at this point seems foolish.

There are gasps as the chancellor lunges at his challenger and picks him up in a bear hug before dropping him to the ground. He straddles Kane, lands blow after blow to his face while the other man closes his hands around Pike's neck. His grip is not strong enough and he quickly resorts to trying to roll his attacker off, but his position is firm. Pike raises his fist level with his face and his teeth are bared in a snarl as he readies a final blow. For a moment, some in the crowd wonder if he actually intends to kill Kane, but everyone's attention shifts as a sharp, commanding voice penetrates the courtyard.

"Enough!"

There are whispers throughout the crowd even as Pike's eyes stay locked on Kane for several beats. Slowly, his head moves up and his eyes find Clarke. He doesn't know it yet—hasn't had the courtesy—but this is not the Clarke he remembers.

This is Wanheda.

Her eyes are aflame with a fury that would see even the bravest Grounder warrior running and the way the early morning sun lights her hair makes her appear like some avenging angel.

"That's enough." She repeats. It's softer and with less bite, but the statement still drips with her anger. It's more than enough: Three hundred warriors slaughtered as they slept, an attempt to wipe out a village, bullying and silencing the very people he leads.

Enough.

Clarke glares as she watches Pike's mouth twitch up in a smile.

"Clarke Griffin…do my eyes deceive me?" He chuckles, standing from his spot over a badly wounded Kane. "You've committed treason; what would make you foolish enough to come back here?"

Clarke stands tall as she feels all the eyes of her people on her. She focuses on her goal and lets that be her strength along with the anger of Wanheda. She will certainly command his death when this is all over; of that, she is certain.

"I'm here to issue a challenge."

Pike scoffs and there is a hint of mockery about him as he gestures down to Marcus. "What? Do you want to be Chancellor, too?"

"No." Clarke chuckles. "I'm simply offering you the chance you've been waiting for. Hand me my humiliation, Pike. Debate me here in front of our people." With each word, Clarke strides down from the second story platform on which she stands, coming to stand just a few feet away from the man. Her eyes bore into him as his do the same. She makes it clear that she is not the little girl he knew on the Ark and she will not be frightened like one.

Wanheda bows to only one person.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Sorry to take a bit long to update. Also, the next update may take a week if not more. I'm moving and as you can imagine, I've got quite a bit on my mind. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 6

Pike stares Clarke down. He can't believe that she'd be so foolish—so bold—as to challenge him here on his land. She must know what happens to the Grounders and the traitors who dare set foot on Arkadia's soil. If she wants humiliation, she will have it. He gives a shake of his head as a smile breaks past his lips.

"Alright then. Tell me, Clarke: What's got you so tense?" He watches as she arches an eyebrow while she processes the question. "You seem angry…self-righteous, even." He emphasizes his words carefully, making sure his tone reminds his people why this girl's anger is childish and misplaced.

"It's funny that you come here with your fury when, in fact, I'm simply doing what you started. You killed hundreds at the drop ship. You're the one the Grounders call the "commander of death", but you're nothing more than a weak little girl."

"Am I?" Clarke scoffs. Her confidence is so utterly unshaken by his assessments that it readily commands the attention of the crowd. "You're right. We killed hundreds of Grounders after we first came to Earth, but they drew first blood and the actions were justified at the time. The thing you're ignoring is that the Grounders forgave the burning. They only asked for one life in return and we worked _with_ them against Mt. Weather-"

"And then they betrayed us." Bellamy speaks up from the crowd, stepping forward with a glare in his eyes. Pike smirks, having been handed the artillery he needs for his next argument. "You're right, Bellamy. They did…and condemned our people inside the mountain to death. They used us to get what they wanted."

"You mean like you're preying on the grief of these people to get what you want? We all come from a station where people were killed to preserve the group as a whole. That's no different from the choice that Lexa made on the mountain. She sacrificed our people for the majority. And since then you've done nothing but continue to slaughter even as she continues to try to make amends and bring peace."

She is on a roll now and the words come out of her like water down the river. She can sense that many in the crowd agree with her, but this isn't about swaying them. She needs to give them a voice; make them feel secure enough to stand up to Pike on their own.

Bellamy attempts to interrupt her once again. "Clarke, you don't know—"

"Shut up." She spits at him before turning her full attention back to Pike."

"Nobody has been directly killed by the Trikru clan since before Finn's execution. Azgeda was responsible for the deaths at Mt. Weather after Lexa withdrew her forces and still you slaughtered three hundred of Trikru's warriors and then attempted to take their land."

Pike tilts his head, intrigued by Clarke's argument. "How else are we supposed to acquire resources?"

Clarke breathes sharply, attempting to quell the frustration she feels mounting inside of her gut. There is something deeply wrong with this man that goes beyond ordering death to the grounders he feels are his enemies. When Clarke speaks again it is with a great deal of effort to restrain her seething temper.

"Those are resources you would have had open access to had you not rejected the brand."

"And I do I know that?" He asks incredulously with a shake of her head. "How am I supposed to take the girl who 'sacrificed' us at Mt. Weather at her word? Hmm?" He's slipping. Growing more frustrated the longer Clarke continues to argue and there is an uneasiness in the courtyard as the whole of Skaikru watches this verbal sparring match.

"The brand made us her people too. Even after you rejected it, she's been acting as such. Why do you think there was no retaliation for the massacre you committed? Why is there just now a blockade? You're alive because she refuses to idly wipe out an entire clan if there is a chance for peace."

Pike's pacing now as if he's a disgruntled tiger locked away in some circus cage. She's deep under his skin and she knows it. He rubs at his temples, wracking his brains for anything that can show this girl that she's wrong.

"What if she's just hiding. Has that occurred to you?" And Clarke lets a broad smile fall onto her lips, fully aware that Lexa is hearing every word of this. Nothing could be further from the truth and he'll find out soon enough that Heda hides from no one.

"I don't imagine why she would. She commands twelve armies and you have the full force of them right at your doorstep, Pike." She pauses, considering a long forgotten factoid from her history lessons on the Ark. "You know, I'm sure you thought you had better fire power when you planned a frontal assault on the blockade, but General Custer probably thought the same."

The next serious of events happens quickly. Pike and Clarke draw their weapons against each other just as Octavia and Lincoln enter the courtyard with a group of freed captives wielding newly acquired firearms. Bellamy hesitates but settles on drawing a weapon on Lincoln as the guards occupy themselves with the captives. The result is a massive stand-off.

"Look at where we are." Clarke states calmly, in spite of the situation. "Is this really what's best for your people?"

Pike listens to her, points his gun at her, but his eyes are focused at some point over her shoulder. He's looking at Octavia, who in turn has a gun drawn on him.

"Bellamy."

"Yes sir?"

"Kill the traitors." Clarke tenses for a moment and briefly considers stopping Bellamy, but some deep instinct compels her to wait. Her mind is drawn back to Nia's attempted coup and she can almost here Lexa's voice in her ear.

 _Let him make his move._

Bellamy's eyes immediately lock on to his sister and everyone in the crowd follows his gaze regardless of the weapons that some of them have pointed. Surely he's not actually going to force this man to kill his own sister. And, as much as Bellamy has butted heads with her recently, the thought has never crossed his mind. He finds himself filled with a terrible sense of dread and conflicted feelings; he's been handed yet another betrayal.

"Sir…?" He asks with a shaky timbre as the gun shakes in his hand. He's all too aware that he's become the center of attention.

"You heard me, Blake." Pike has gone strangely calm, though his order still carries an ominous bark about it. _Kill her or I will._

Bellamy slowly shifts his weapon to point it at Octavia and their eyes lock with the same horrified expression. It's exactly the situation that Clarke was hoping to avoid in leaving her own mother in Polis. She watches the scene with a cold fury akin to the one she'd felt at first arriving to find Kane beaten and bloody at Pike's feet.

"Enough." She repeats, loud and strong, and it carries over the crowd. Lincoln looks just as furious standing protectively at Octavia's side and he knows if Bellamy dares to pull that trigger, then he might as well be pulling it for himself because Lincoln's bullet will find him.

There's a shift in the crowd in the wake of Clarke's repeated sentiment and Bellamy's hesitance. Everyone who had a hand in planning this coup knows that Pike has just lost with that last order; they feel it as surely as they feel the wind. Lincoln further riles up the rebellion as he starts to chant, eyes still burning holes into Bellamy and Pike.

"Nou Pike noumo."

The second time he speaks the chant, he's joined by Octavia, and then Clarke until almost everyone has joined and the words are thunderous inside the walls of Arkadia. For his part, Pike has the sense to realize that he is finally outmatched and virtually crumbles under the weight of his defeat. He stands flabbergasted in the midst of the din with his gun at his side until a group of guards relieve him of it.

Clarke knows it's better than he deserves, but she stops the crowd from their assaults on the deposed Chancellor before they can kill him. No, he would receive his judgement before Heda. The guards shove him off toward the cells with much the same treatment as he had them use with Kane earlier and Skaikru's raucousness continues well on into the day.

The scant remaining supporters are quickly discovered and thrown into the cells along with their leader. Bellamy is among them, though he managed to see Pike for the man he was at the end. Before he's taken amid the chaos, Clarke spots him tearfully hugging Octavia. She smiles at the sight of Octavia slapping him after pulling away and wonders how long the other woman has been thinking about that.

* * *

The day is wearing thin and Clarke is in the medbay watching Kane as he sleeps. She has seen to his injuries personally and they speak to his unfair treatment. There are several broken ribs, a broken nose, a fractured jaw, and his body is covered in a litany of purple bruises. She was even worried about internal bleeding at one point, but now, with the blood cleaned from his broken body, Kane rests. Despite his injuries, it looks to be the most peaceful sleep the man has had in a while.

Now, Clarke sits sketching on some random piece of paper. There is no direction to her drawing, she just finds herself drawing visions of the brighter future that seems less far away than it did yesterday. Maybe now her people can finally move on from the past. She hopes they will learn a lesson from Pike and let go of their hatred. She knows that given time, Lexa will show them how to trust again.

She looks up and the sound of the door to find Octavia standing with her mentor. Ever the stoic warrior, Indra actually looks like she may smile as she walks further into the room. She offers her hand and Clarke grasps her forearm, noting the pride that sparkles in those stern eyes.

"I was wrong about you, Klark kom Skaikru. Your people did the clans proud today. They do Heda proud."

Clarke gives a simple nod in thanks and acceptance of the compliments. Her eyes register surprise when Indra cracks an actual smile. It passes as quickly as it comes but it's a smile nonetheless and suddenly the warrior is back to business.

"I bring a message from the blockade. The summit was a success and Heda wishes for the presence of all thirteen clans in Polis for Pike's sentencing.

"All thirteen…" Clarke gasps "Has that even been done before?"

"Not since the first Heda many moons ago." Indra replies

"Mochoff, Indra." Clarke replies, still awestruck at the thought that only a few hours would see her traveling with the full might of the Grounder nations.

"Reshop, Wanheda en mochoff." Indra bows her head in respect before she turns on her heel to leave her protégé alone with Clarke.

The silence stretches peacefully between them; neither woman knowing what to say, or even if there is anything to say. Neither quite expected the day to go as well as it had but…there was a price.

Octavia's gaze drifts over to Kane's sleeping figure as she surveys his battered appearance.

"Will he be safe to move?" She wonders, suddenly realizing that Lexa had called for the entirety of the thirteen clans. Clarke is quick to diffuse her concern.

"He'll be fine…probably back on his feet once he wakes up." She meets Octavia's gaze with a small smile. "I imagine he was sleep deprived. I hardly had to give him any medicine."

"What an ass." Octavia huffs as she clenches her fists at her sides. "He couldn't even fight fair; had to have his opponent abused and kept awake before hand."

Clarke chuckles as she gives a nod. "ass isn't the word I'd use, but I guess it works. How's Bellamy?"

"Stupid." Octavia grunts. "A few hours in the cell will do him good. He'll be lucky if he has an ass left to kick by the time Lexa gets to him."

"Well, I guess it's lucky for him that Lexa's got her eyes set on Pike."

Octavia nods in agreement. "All that for a girl he barely knew, and we're the irrational, over emotional ones?"

Clarke chuckles, placing a calming hand on Octavia's shoulder. "Well, hopefully he's learned from this." A devious smile stretches across her face when she speaks again. "If not, we can both kick his ass."

Octavia lets out a snort at the comment and then they lapse into another silence with only the sound of Kane's breathing between them. Clarke thinks of her mother, Kane, of Wells…everyone she's been held responsible for since landing on Earth. This is a victory for them all, but she knows that there is still a battle left to fight for them.

Her mind wanders back to Lexa; to Polis and the mysterious chip. She thinks about her people's ominous connection to the City of Light. But those problems can wait…for now:

"So, Princess, we actually did it."

"Yeah, we did."

And it feels damn good to finally say those words.

* * *

That's it for this chapter. Once again, I really don't know how long the next update will take but I will get it up as soon as possible. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, the homecoming is a busy affair. The rumor mill in Polis seems to have been working in full swing as people line the streets. They crowd from all sides, curious to catch a glimpse of the awesome sight—and it is a spectacular image. All thirteen nations parade together through the city streets; the thunder of each army's footfalls gives away the clans' arrival before they even reach the gates.

The giant army easily stretches several miles long in the narrow streets and banners of all different designs and colors can be seen mingling together from high up in the towers above. From high above Polis, even Lexa watches the scene with interest from the window of her throne room high atop the palace. Everyone in the city understands the gravity of this event. Not since the first commander have the clans joined together in the same place like this. Some are not even old enough to know that it's ever happened before. She's making a bold politically statement and it must not be squandered.

Clarke senses a pair of eyes on her from where she sits within the formation. Her own flit up to the palace tower and she just makes out the gaping hole in the top where Lexa's throne room is. It seems small from down on the ground.

"Hell of a crowd, isn't it, Wanheda?"

Clarke spooks slightly and finds King Roan riding on her right flank with that sly grin perched on his face. She wonders how and when he managed to nudge through such a tightly packed convoy.

"Makes me wonder what Heda's got up her sleeve this time."

"Oh, you know." Clarke shrugs with a smile. "She's a woman of many talents."

"I'm sure." Roan snorts, shaking his head with amusement as Clarke reddens beside him.

The massive formation branches off on reaching the palace. Those among the ranks of Skaikru break away and continue toward the tower gates while the rest of the clans break away in separate directions to make their bivouacs just outside the city.

The whole of Skaikru's loyal have been granted quarters in the palace, though many within the clans suspect that Heda has hidden motives for such a choice. Keep your enemies closer, as the saying goes. And they aren't entirely wrong. Skaikru will be under careful watch, but not for the reasons assumed.

It's another two hours before all of her people have been shown to their quarters and all prisoners locked away in cells. After a lengthy discussion with Kane, Clarke breaks away from her people for the first time in five days and heads to the top of the tower. The guards move aside as she enters the throne room in search of one person in particular; it's a surprise when the first familiar face she sees is that of her mother.

Clarke watches from the doorway for a moment, perplexed at the scene before her. The nightbloods are gathered in a semi-circle around the healer and she speaks to them in Gonasleng about the virtues of advanced medicine. Clarke's eyes scan the room for Lexa; if the natblida are present, their mentor can't be far away. She spots the leader gazing out of her balcony, but still listening intently. Her posture is rigid with alertness and her head is perked up at the top of her spine.

Clarke's feet seem to move her body into the room of their own accord as she seeks to be closer. She'd gone without her for five days and suddenly any distance is far too much. She momentarily forgets her mother in her tunnel vision until she hears her name on the older woman's lips and finds herself being hugged tightly while the nightbloods look on.

Abby assesses her daughter for any signs of outward injury. She knows that there had been no shots fired—that the coup against Pike had been a bloodless victory—but she can't help the instinct that compels her to make sure that Clarke is as safe as she seems. She'd heard the standoff from over the radio; right here in this very throne room. The intensity of it hadn't left her even after they heard the calls for Pike's removal.

There's so much she wants to say, but all she can seem to process is her daughter here, safe, standing in front of her.

Clarke seems to understand and reaches out to hug her mother one more time.

"I'm fine, mom." She smiles and takes a step back. "You should go see Kane."

Abby agrees, leaving Clarke with a motherly pat on her arm as she heads for the door. Clarke turns expecting to see the nightbloods, but is instead met with a throne room that is empty of everyone but herself and Lexa. She arches a cheeky, questioning eyebrow at the woman in front of her even as her feet betray her again and she steps into a pair of waiting arms. Suddenly, in this secure warmth, the past few days seem more like several eternities as the pair stands thoroughly intertwined in the middle of the throne room. The weight they both feel lifting from their shoulders is enormous, and even though there is still much to come, they've passed a giant hurdle.

Clarke breathes Lexa in; noses into her hair. She feels Lexa do the same and _god_ it feels so good to be here…to be home. Lexa feels much stronger than the last time Clarke held her and the blonde is thankful for that. It seems the combined efforts of her mother and that mysterious implant have seen to a speedy recovery back to full health.

They pull back, leaning against eachothers' foreheads for several long moments, basking in the contentedness of the moment. They feel the comfort of simply being with each other again and soak it up while they can.

Reluctantly, Clarke pulls away, carefully taking in Lexa's visage. And there it is again, Lexa notes, that hint of amusement.

"Last I checked, my mom wasn't exactly your biggest fan, now she's teaching the nightbloods?" Clarke's smirk stretches into an even wider grin at the idea of the two women becoming something like buddies in her absence. "How did you do that?"

Lexa chuckles softly. "I did nothing. Much like you, it seems your mother warmed to me considerably after a few days of exposure to Polis."

"Yeah, she likes you so much she's teaching you're students." Clarke teases, "Careful Heda, you may find her sitting in your throne soon."

Lexa's face registers amusement at Clarke's teasing jabs, yet her words are a bit more serious as she offers a nonchalant reply. "Actually, I believe your mother is more taken with aiding the healers. If anyone has cause to worry, it is them."

Clarke's expression suddenly grows serious and she thinks back to Lexa's war summit, and the other things that Lexa fell just short of allowing her to be burdened with before she ventured for Arkadia.

"Do _we_ have cause to worry?" She wonders out loud and is answered swiftly with a confident shake of the head and a smirk. "No. At least…not just yet. The ambassadors were satisfied with the coup, though they still demand blood."

Clarke is taken aback at the news for a moment, though she can't say she's surprised. One man hardly seems like justice for the Grounder lives taken. Still, she can't help the twinge of panic that settles in her stomach at the ominous news and her voice wavers as she asks "So…what will happen to Skaikru?"

"As I promised you, your people are safe." Lexa grips Clarke's hands in her own in a reassuring manner. "Each of those loyal to your deposed chancellor will pay in blood, but only Pike himself will pay with his life."

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up at the words. How on Earth did they agree to that? "Lexa…"She trails, shaking her head "the ambassadors couldn't have agreed to that."

"They didn't at first." Lexa nods in concession "But they came around after hearing how ardently your people spoke against Pike once you were able to rally them."

The pair is interrupted by the sound of the door to the throne room creaking open and two pairs of eyes follow the noise to see Titus as he stands stoically in the doorway.

"Speak."

With his Heda's acknowledgement, Titus advances into the room, offering Clarke a curt nod and addressing her with her title before he bows his head to Lexa.

"Heda, Skaikru have been settled into guest quarters and the servants have seen to them. The prisoners are locked away in the dungeons as we speak. May I make the arrangements for the ceremony?"

"Yes." Lexa assents firmly. "Tell the clans we will gather the dawn after next."

"Sha, Heda." Titus bows at the waist. "Will that be all?"

Clarke is quick to whisper a few words into Lexa's ear and she leans closer, taking in each syllable carefully before she gives her full attention back to her advisor.

"See to it that Pike's sleep is disturbed at regular intervals." Her jaw is set in a way that suggests she doesn't exactly approve of what she's just ordered, but she will not deny Skaikru, Kane, and Clarke that satisfaction either if it's what is wished for.

Titus takes his leave and Lexa forces her jaw to relax, determined not to let politics spoil the evening of Clarke's return. Though the thirteen clans gather here in Polis, tonight there will be time for just them—Clarke and Lexa. Tonight she will allow them a piece of time away from their duties. Lexa turns to Clarke and slips her hand into the blond's from where they brush near each other.

"You've seen the rising and the setting of the sun from your Ark in the sky, but have you ever seen the sun give way to the moon from the top of the world?"

As it turns out, the "top of the world" is the top of the palace tower. Lexa guides Clarke down the hall from the throne room and up an intricately designed structure of staircases leading further up still from the top floor where Lexa's throne room is housed. Lexa moves in front of Clarke as they reach the top and reaches along the ceiling for some unknown thing. She finds it after a few moments and pushes a hatch open to bathe them in the light of dusk.

A couple of quick moves later and they both stand at the highest point in Polis.

Clarke's mouth stands agape at the sight. There is a clear line of sight for miles in any direction. It's certainly the best vantage point in the city, but not the most practical for strategic purposes given its somewhat tedious accessibility. Still, the view is incredible; from this spot, they can see clear into the surrounding trikru and sand nation territories. To the east lies Arkadia, though it is beyond the range of sight.

Clarke is also awestruck by the enormity of the eternal flame that burns just above their heads. From the ground it seems like a mere spark, but up here standing at its base, she feels the power of the inferno at her back. The winds it creates tug lightly at her loose hair.

She finds Lexa staring out in silent reflection over everything that is hers…all that she commands. The fires from the clans surrounding Polis are just beginning to pop up in the grassy landscape. Clarke knows it's a heavy weight Lexa carries to attempt to unite the clans in peace instead of war, but that's a problem for another day. Tonight they have come here for a different reason.

She leans her chin on Lexa's shoulder and follows her gaze to the ground below, where the city is still thriving with activity underneath them.

Clarke smiles, "You know, as interesting as Polis is, it's no sunset."

Lexa melts into Clarke in response, allowing her eyes to drift up to the horizon and her mind to drift away from the task at hand. The view is a spattering of pink, yellow, and orange colors across the sky and their fire matches the one that blazes at her back. The commander has no choice to agree.

Polis is no sunset.

Then again, she's fairly certain that Clarke's own beauty rivals the image she's looking at right now and if she had to choose between them she would happily live in a world without sunlight if it meant opening her eyes to the features of Clarke's face every day.

It's only after Clarke cocks her head to one side in a confused manner that Lexa realizes she's been staring, and she stares even longer as that mouth breaks into the grin she enjoys so much.

"I thought we came up here to see a sunset." Clarke speaks lowly, voice dripping with the suspicion—accusation, really—that Lexa may have had an ulterior motive. And she's not wrong.

"We did." The commander nods, subtly inching further into the other woman's personal space than she already is. "I decided that you were more captivating."

The retort dies on Clarke's lips as quickly as it comes as Lexa closes the space between them, her hand tenderly cradling Clarke's face just as it did those months ago during their first kiss. Together, they build their own flame here atop the tower and it burns away in effort to rival the one that burns above them. The light of the setting sun fades into darkness, forgotten.

* * *

Dinner the next evening is a noisy event. Sure, it's just an informal meal with Kane and Abby, but the wine flows freely and everyone seems in good spirits. Kane's laugh echoes loudly through the candle lit dining hall despite the bruising he still suffers. In many ways, it feels a bit to Clarke as if this is a 'bring your girlfriend home to your parents' kind of dinner.

Most of the stories being told around the table seem to revolve around her in some form or another Lexa just takes each one in with a keen interest, offering the occasional comment or supplementary anecdote.

"Yeah," Kane laughs as the end of yet another story comes. "You've always been a fiery one."

Lexa's brow raises from where she sits at the head of the table. It's yet another term she's unfamiliar with, but the context of Kane's statement tells her he is alluding to the personality that Wanheda is notorious for. A wry smirk crosses her face as one particular memory comes to the surface.

"You know, when I first had Clarke brought to Polis, she actually dared to spit on me."

"You did _not!"_ Abby fixes Clarke with an incredulous, wide-eyed stare while Kane all but chokes on his wine.

The blond offers no answer, finding herself at a loss for anything to say to that. Instead, she opts for gazing into her stew as she twirls her spoon around its depths.

"She did." Lexa answers "And later she suggest I 'float myself'. I still haven't worked out what that means and Clarke refuses to answer."

"Clarke!" Abby shoots a disapproving, scandalized glance. Her daughter merely offers a shrug before drinking deeply from her wine glass. "What? It's better than telling her to go fuck herself. She didn't even understand what I meant." Clarke lets out a tipsy snort as she takes another sip.

"I assume it may have something to do with your practice of execution to preserve oxygen while your people were still in space."

Clarke and Marcus both shoot surprised glances at the Commander, prompting an explanation as to how she came by that information and she tilts her head nonchalantly. "Your mother told me."

"In fact," Lexa goes on "there is a similar grounder sentiment which alludes to our own execution ritual."

"Really?" Marcus asks, curious.

Lexa nods, turning her attention to Clarke as a smile spreads across her face. "Maybe you might hear it if you should ever aggravate me as much as I have you."

"Shof op."

Lexa gives a smile that looks uncharacteristically impish before her eyes fall on Kane's bruised features and her attention is redirected.

"How are your wounds, Marcus?"

"Healing well." He answers before taking a bite of beef from his fork. Swallowing, he asks "Yours?"

"Healed entirely." Immediately, Lexa feels the intensity of the sharp, disapproving gaze Abby and Clarke both shoot her way and she swiftly amends herself. "…mostly."

"I'm just grateful to have such skilled healers." She gives a nod and raises her glass to the two Griffin women. Both of them catch the subtle glint of understanding that passes across her eyes.

No one outside this room must know of the true nature of the spirit that resides within her.

* * *

Later that evening, when all is quiet and not even the palace mice roam the halls, a shadowy figure sneaks past the guards. The figure moves carefully through the corridors, weaving in and out of moonlight on the way to the dungeons. It waits for the shift change to sneak into the darkness where a number of prisoners reside in addition to the newly acquired Skaikru traitors. The cloaked shadow bypasses a carefully sealed steel door that covers Pike's own personal cell and heads in search of one familiar person.

She finally steps into a beam of moonlight at Bellamy's crouched form and he looks up into the eyes of his sister. She's the last person he wants to see right now. He knows he's done wrong and he'll surely die for it in the morning. She can save her guilt.

"What are you doing here?" He snaps, peering up at her with reddened eyes. She looks right back down at him, unimpressed. "You know you're probably gonna die in a few hours."

"And?" Bellamy asks through gritted teeth. He could've done without that reminder.

"And I just wanna know if you get it….like, really _get_ it."

Confusion registers on Bellamy's face as he continues to look up at his sister. "Get what?" Octavia lets out a long huff and throws her hands up in exasperation. Her eyes land on him and cut through him sharply as she bears down.

"Don't be stupid, Bellamy. You helped murder three hundred people _and_ you helped spare some of the wounded. You knew you were doing the wrong thing but you did nothing to stop that until Pike asked you to kill me. Do you get that he used you; manipulated you…used your anger?"

Octavia fumes, pacing back and forth in front of the bars as she speaks until she finally comes to a stop with her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she's silently demanding an explanation from him.

"Of course I get it!" Bellamy snaps, leaping up from the ground to grab at the bars with surprising agility. "I was betrayed—twice—and people died because of it."

Octavia rolls her eyes at her brother. If the circumstances were a bit different, she might've been more sympathetic toward Bellamy's feelings. However, those feelings are rooted deep inside a wound shared by all of the Sky People.

"Give me a break, Bell." She scoffs. "That's a weak excuse and you know it. We all suffered at Mt. Weather and we were all betrayed. You wouldn't have been betrayed by Pike if you weren't too busy moping about a girl you barely knew to see sense."

Bellamy reels back into the cell as if he's been slapped as her words hit him like the impact of a drop ship landing. The silence stretches between them for several moments and he opens his mouth several times in an effort to retort, but no words come to him. He knows she's right. Instead, he lets out a sigh as he sinks back to the floor and repeats his earlier question.

"Why are you here?" He pleads.

Octavia is about to answer when the sound of a door opening from somewhere else in the dungeons catches her attention. She's run out of time and she has to leave, even if she hasn't figured out all she needs to know. Bellamy implores her to answer once again as she backs away from his cell and she offers a quick head shake, meeting his broken expression with her own conflicted gaze.

"I just wanted to know if there's anything left of the man I used to call my brother."

She's out the door before he can question her further and that parting statement keeps him awake for the rest of the night, rolling around in his mind and clinging to every thought. He finds it's a question he can't answer. He thought he was doing the right thing, but all along he was doing more harm to his people…people he'd only sought to help even when he was shedding grounder blood. At least, that had been the intent.

Turns out, he doesn't really know himself and the thought leaves him terrified.

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the late update, I just got moved to a new place. Anyway, hope yall enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

Polis stirs earlier than usual the next morning. It is not yet dawn and the streets are just beginning to come alive with anticipation. The people know that today is a momentous occasion, and they are preparing for it in their own ways. Outside the city, the clans ready themselves for the ceremony which will take place in a short time.

Trikru…Azgeda…Sand Nation…

One by one, the camps begin to stir as the clans wake. Leaders convene and chatter ensues; the anticipation surrounding Polis is absolutely palpable. It winds through the city streets, claws up the high buildings, and makes its way into the very heart of the palace itself.

It is inside, near the top of the tower, that Lexa finds herself sneaking away from Clarke's arms and the shelter of the bed. The echoes of previous commanders inside her mind have woken her and she finds that their clashing views on today's impending events are not a comfort. In the very depths of her heart, she knows she's doing the right thing, that today will bring peace to her people—all of them. There is still that lingering vestige of doubt in her mind that refuses to be put to rest. It whispers that love is weakness and she must demand blood.

Some of the previous commanders echo this sentiment until she can't stand it anymore and she finds herself brooding at the window. She looks out over her city with her jaw set in anticipation; watches her people as they ready themselves for the day ahead. The edges of the horizon are pink and orange with the approaching dawn and she knows there isn't much time left.

"Worried?" Clarke's voice is husky with sleep from somewhere close behind her and she wonders how she missed the other woman's movements from the bed. Before she can turn to face Clarke, she feels the warmth of a welcome pair of arms as they circle around her.

"I'm not worried." She shakes her head. A smile creeps across her lips as kisses land on the soft skin of her neck. She leans into the touch for a moment before Clarke stops her movements at the edge of her jaw just below her ear. "Then what?"

"Conflicted."

She glances over at Clarke and back out the window, and this time, Clarke follows her gaze; observes the movement several stories below them. She mulls over everything in her head as they stand watch; understanding dawning as she speaks again.

"You're not sure you've made the right choice." Her arms tighten their hold on the commander as she waits patiently for a response. Minutes tick by as Lexa stands, thinking. The sand in the hourglass is slipping and she's running out of time before she will have to stand before her people and follow through with the decision made before the summit a week ago.

"Our people need peace." She says, finally. "I'm just not certain that the path I've chosen is the right way."

"It is."

Clarke's affirmation prompts Lexa to turn in her arms. She fixes the blonde with an imploring gaze, begging for understanding as she places her own hands on Clarke's hips. Never before has she heard Clarke sound so resolute about a decision that some of her own people in detriment and that fact leaves her curious.

"You're right. Our people need peace." Clarke echoes Lexa's words as she takes her face between her hands. "But they've known war too long. They won't accept peace if you refuse them blood all together. Your compromise is the only way."

"Actually, the compromise is your mother's."

Clarke pulls back a bit to study Lexa's face and finds that a wry grin has settled onto her lips.

"Since when do guests make political decisions in Polis?"

At this, the smirk grows into a full smile as Lexa remembers that Clarke herself had started out as a prisoner before becoming an ambassador to her people.

"I couldn't risk another situation like the last attempted coup in your absence." She explains "Abby served as ambassador in your stead."

"And how did you know you could trust my mom not to vote against you if there had been a coup?"

Lexa surveys the playful arch of Clarke's eyebrow and the curves of her curious expression. True enough, the elder of the Griffin women had not been a particularly ardent advocate of Heda's in recent months, but recent bonding aside, she had to know what Lexa's forced replacement would certainly mean for her people.

"The same reason you voted against the ambassadors during Nia's attempted coup." Her eyes flit away from the blue of Clarke's and out the window where dawn is breaking.

"Now come, we have to dress for the ceremony."

* * *

The thirteen clans are gathered in a large field just outside of the city. Their numbers are massive and the quiet chatter of the group is almost thunderous even though they whisper among themselves as they await Heda's arrival.

The group forms a wide circle with the ambassadors and clan leaders situated at the front of each nation. In the middle of this formation, there are five posts side by side with the tallest one in the center. It is on this one that Pike is chained, looking beaten and weary. His guards have seen to it that he has received the same treatment that he dealt Kane, much to Lexa's disapproval. Despite everything, he still wears a confident sneer and his eyes blaze with a wild defiance. On either side of him Bellamy, Jasper, and two other delinquents sit chained. Each bears, to some degree, an expression of apprehension and fear.

Suddenly, all idle talk within the factions ceases as eyes snap to Titus, who stands at the edge of the path into this center area. His posture demands attention as do his stern eyes as he raises is hand in a silent command. He speaks his next words in Gonasleng out of consideration for Skaikru's presence.

"Be silent for your Commander."

Without further preamble, Lexa marches forward down the path. Her eyes immediately lock with Pike's and she makes a display of her might in the few steps that she travels. In the straightness of her spine, she carries confidence. In the arch of her shoulders, she bears the might of the thirteen nations gathered together in the field. In her walk, she shows the hardened strength of a lifetime of training. The message is clear: The only place for those who wish to incite war within the coalition is under her boot.

She comes to a stop just a few meters in front of Pike and her eyes finally leave his to gaze around the crowd. She finds each of the clan leaders and ambassadors looking back at her with rapt attention: Indra, Clarke, Roan, and Kane among them.

"As you all know, you have been joined here today for the first time since the time of the earliest Heda." Her eyes scan each face in the crowd and her voice projects loudly, almost echoing against the mountainous backdrop of the field.

"We come here to usher in a new age. One where Jus Drein Jus Daun is not the only way we know."

At this, there are surprised murmers within the crowd, and Titus shifts uncomfortably from behind Lexa. He is still uncertain about how this will be received, but his Heda has made her position quite clear. Lexa's eyes find Clarke's in the crowd and she holds them as she speaks.

"Our people have known war for too long; violence and bloodshed among brothers, neighbors, and friends. Today we bring peace, but first…" Her voice trails and her eyes fall to the members of Skaikru.

"You are all aware of the troubles within Skaikru ranks. Many of you demanded blood when Skaikru's dysfunction spilled into your lands. I am prepared to offer that blood as a symbol of a new policy."

Her hand sweeps out toward the men who sit chained at her feet. "These five will bleed for what they have done, but only one will give us his life."

The five Skaikru men in front of her look equally as surprised as several of the grounders around them. Only the ambassadors and clan leaders appear to know what's happening as murmurs and gasps spread among the crowd. She allows a moment for silence to fall back into place before she addresses the men in front of her.

"You five have been taken into custody for your crimes against the coalition and you will all endure the ceremony of a thousand cuts, but only you will meet my sword, Pike kom Skaikru."

She steps closer until she stands right in front of Pike, each of them boring their gazes into each other for several moments until the Heda asks, "Do you have any final thoughts?"

Pike chuckles in response. His laughter is not the sound of a sane man, but of someone who has slipped into madness. "Look at you…high and mighty commander." His chuckling resumes until he abruptly stops to spit blood at her boot and she steps back swiftly. "Your followers are all fools."

She waits patiently for several moments to see if he'll offer anything else, then with quick looks of acknowledgement to the other four, she speaks. "Let it begin."

The entire ceremony lasts long into the day. Bellamy and the other three are the first to suffer their punishment with the clan ambassadors and leaders inflicting the wounds. Healers are brought in later to cauterize some of the wounds so that the men won't bleed out and then to treat them after they've been released from the posts.

Pike is the last to suffer, and his punishment is far more tedious. All of skaikru is made to inflict his cuts in order to cement their loyalty to the grounder coalition. It's almost dusk by the time Lexa stands in front of him with her sword pulled and delivers the final blow. She hopes that this death will mark the last time for a very long while that her ceremonial sword will have to be pulled, and she shares that hope with her people a moment later as they stand watching her like they had that morning.

"This morning I spoke to you of peace for our people. With this man's death, we close the chapter on our bloody past and begin a new one." Her eyes drift among the children in the crowd, to the nightbloods who stand watch near her flank. "A chapter where our children can grow without having to know bloodshed; where instead, we teach them that love is not weakness."

She turns to meet Titus' eyes with a pointed gaze and he simply bows his head in response. "With that said, let it be known that Jus Drein Jus Daun still has a time and place."

The statement is met with surprise, particularly from members of Trikru and Skaikru.

"We will only demand blood for the most heinous crimes and it will be given— _with_ a vote of the ambassadors and my consent. No longer will our people indulge in senseless bloodshed to solve arbitrary problems. " Her voice grows steadily more firm as she speaks and again her eyes find Clarke's. "Love is _not_ weakness."

Utter silence falls among the crowd as she finishes speaking and the entirety of the clans watches their Heda for several tense moments. It lasts just long enough for her to wonder if she's made the wrong choice but then something happens. Slowly but surely, mixed calls of "Heda" and "love is not weakness" in mixed Trigedasleng and Gonasleng begin to spread through the massive crowd. The cries grow in volume and intensity until the noise is a thunderous din that echoes off the mountains with ease and leaves Lexa in awe of what she's done, though she's still careful to take note of the few people in the crowd who look displeased with her decision.

Behind her, Titus is beside himself with surprise, relief, and joy that he struggles to contain. He can't believe what he's seeing; what Lexa has done. This is by far her most impressive accomplishment in her six year reign and he can only look on with wide eyes as the clans unite in support of peace. Tears spring to his eyes and he begins to mutter to himself as laughter threatens to break from his lips.

"H-hodnes nou laik kwelnes."

It is the first time that he can remember feeling good about being wrong.

Lexa knows there is still much to do, but for now, she embraces the happiness of the moment. She allows the clans to continue their raucousness as she breaks away from her spot and heads in search of Clarke.

"Lexa…that was amazing." Clarke says, utterly awestruck at what's happened over the course of the day. The clans are united without anyone feuding. Though it would be unrealistic to expect the other shoe not to drop, they both know that they have time to wait for that…at least where the coalition and these new policies are concerned. Now, even as Lexa happily talks with Clarke and other members of the Trikru and Skaikru, another matter is at the edge of her mind.

"Clarke," she says after several minutes of conversation. "Please, show me to the man your people call Murphy."

Thanks for reading guys. Sorry the update took longer than usual. Still adjusting to my move! Anyway, I hope yall enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

It's growing late into the morning as Lexa spars in the palace courtyard with the nightbloods. Days ago, they had proven hesitant to train effectively due to her injury, but time has healed that wound and with reassurance she has commanded them to give their best. Although she has brought peace, the Natblida must maintain their skill should an unseen threat emerge.

She stands poised with her staff. Her eyes are keenly alert as ever and the sweat drips down her brow. Her nostrils flare slightly in response to the labored breathing caused by her exertions.

Aden stands before her, staring her down with the eyes of a warrior. He searches for weakness in her stance as he prepares to strike with his own staff. He finds himself a bit too slow as Heda has surmised his own vulnerabilities first and she lunges with her staff. He rushes to parry the blows, keeping her teachings in mind.

Even in the fury of battle it is vital to maintain a calm mind.

They trade blow after blow and he seems almost evenly matched with Lexa, though he doubts she would use her full strength against the nightbloods. She commands him to keep up his assault when he does particularly well and eventually he knocks her off kilter with a sweeping blow to her exposed leg.

For a moment, Lexa is disoriented by the sudden loss of her balance, but then she registers what's happened and her eyes shine with pride as she looks up at her most promising novitiate.

"Good, Aden." She offers a smile and takes the hand that he holds out. From the corner of her eye she spots Titus waiting patiently nearby and she turns to address the rest of the natblida. "You've all done well today. Remember what you've learned from today's sparring session. You are dismissed."

With that, the nightbloods bow to their Heda before they take their leave and Titus takes the opportunity to approach casually.

"Aden shows further improvement." He comments, having witnessed the boy knock Lexa to the ground.

"Sha." Lexa's expression is stoic, but her face shines with pride nonetheless. She is proud of all of her novitiates. "He seems well on his way to becoming the most skilled natblida ever seen."

"And what of the rest?"

"They are all well prepared." She clasps her hands atop the staff as it sits planted into the ground at her feet. "Marton struggles with his defense and Ana her footwork, but they're all approaching the skill I possessed when I was a pup at my own conclave."

Titus nods; thinking about how much has changed in so little time as he echoes Lexa's own thoughts. "Perhaps they will not soon know the horrors of the conclave…or even of war."

"At least that hope exists now; it's a start."

Lexa turns toward her advisor, thoughtfully surveying his profile under her keen gaze.

"Are you still wary of my decision, Titus?"

The flamekeeper solemnly bows his head in response as he is flooded with regret and lingering shame for the actions that stemmed from his doubts. While he does still have some ambivalence about this fresh peace, the initial response has given him hope that their people can accept this new way of life.

"It's true that I failed to trust your judgement, but Heda…I owe you an apology. I was wrong in my teachings and my actions and I am thankful that you learned differently."

Lexa takes in his words as he speaks. Titus is rarely one to reveal his deeper feelings and so she knows the sincerity of his words as he bares himself to his pupil. She offers him an appreciative hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you for your words, teacher. However, I am not the only one who deserves them." Her tone is not forceful or commanding, and yet she offers him a pointed glance. He knows she's referring to his treasonous actions toward Clarke. In that same moment, he's reminded once more how utterly fortunate he is to still be breathing. He has been shown rare forgiveness for a reason and he intends not to squander that.

Titus offers Lexa a bow in response to her words before he walks away and Lexa is left standing alone in the courtyard. She revels in the first peaceful moment she's had that morning before turning to head down the nearest corridor.

The next item on the day's agenda is a much needed bath. Luckily, today is a day of rest for her people and the new peace has made it even quieter. Of course, propriety dictates that she convene with the clan leaders one final time before the twelve clans depart in two days. She has extended the invitation to Skaikru for their extended stay so that she may observe their ranks more closely. Some of their number still remains in the grasp of the Sonchakapa and it is her responsibility to ensure that this corruption does not spread.

As she strolls deeper into the heart of the palace and into the elevator, she is surprised by another presence. The operator looks unsure of this situation from his place outside the carriage as it begins it slow descent along the pulley system, but he says nothing. The two inside the elevator stand much as they did during their first encounter until the operator is far below them and the man speaks.

"Commander. Imagine meeting you here. It's a pleasure." His eyes sweep over her as if he is trying to unearth hidden secrets beneath her surface and the smile on his face bears a unique quality that always makes him seem more foe than friend. Lexa trusts him less now than she did when they met, and for the life of her, she can't remember why he isn't dead, but for the moment she forgets that. She decides that humoring him is the best option available.

"It is a strange coincidence, Jaha." She nods, offering him a kind smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice is suspicion masks as politeness. Her time in the City of Light is a haze, but she remembers his presence there well. Judging by his expression he remembers her too.

"What brings you here?"

"I'm just exploring your abode." He tilts his head up to look at the ceiling before his eyes fall back to hers and he notes the hardness that lies deep underneath the kindness in those depths.

"And has your exploration proven interesting?"

He smirks that sleazy smirk that only serves to reinforce her distrust. "Time will tell."

Before she can offer a reply, the elevator grinds to a halt signifying that they've reached the floor housing Heda's personal quarters and the rest of the diplomatic chambers. The door opens to Clarke standing on the other side. She immediately feels the tension between Lexa and Jaha as her eyes flit between them for a few seconds. Two pairs of eyes snap to her as she clears her throat.

Jaha moves to leave the elevator with a final nod to Lexa. "Nice chat, Commander."

"What was that about?" Clarke asks as Lexa steps off a moment later.

Lexa sighs and shakes her head. "I really don't trust that man."

"Few do these days." Clarke says as she falls into step beside Lexa.

"What is this?"

Clarke's fingers run idly along the ink on Lexa's neck. She's seen it before and run her fingers along the curving lines on other occasions, but only now does the question come to mind here in the warm water of Lexa's tub. It is the same symbol on some of the chips she'd come across in Arkadia; chips identical to the one Lexa had acquired from Titus.

"It represents the spirit of Heda." Lexa explains simply, shivering with pleasure as Clarke's fingers venture down to the tattoo she'd gotten after her ascension. "More than that, the cycle that the Commander embodies."

"The cycle?" Clarke's lips find the inked skin on the back of Lexa's neck, touching the slight protrusion where the 'spirit' resides beneath the skin. She smiles as she feels Lexa melt into her touch.

"Yes. Heda is eternal, but each commander is not." Here, Clarke's arms instinctively wind tightly around Lexa's waist as if holding onto her and never letting go will keep her on this mortal plane.

"Someday my fight will end, but the Commander's fight will continue."

Lexa's fallen back into the habit of speaking of her own death and it brings a knowing smile to both faces. Clarke brushes the reference aside for the moment with another thought.

"It's the same symbol that's on the chips."

Lexa hums in response and reaches out of the tub where her coat lays forgotten. She draws the chip from the pocket and holds it up as both women look at it with interest. After several moments, the blue symbol begins to light up until it shines like neon.

"It's glowing." Clarke's confusion is evident in her voice and she holds onto Lexa with a protective grasp. "Why is it glowing?"

"I don't know yet." Lexa rubs her free hand along Clarke's arms in a soothing gesture. She knows by now that the chip is no threat to her…at least not directly. "Perhaps it is influenced by the spirit."

Clarke considers this for a moment. She knows her people travel to the City of Light and that the Commanders are able to during meditation. As the pieces click into place, this object begins to seem like less of a mystery.

"The Spirit allows you access to the City of Light; maybe this chip is a piece of similar technology. That's how my people are getting there."

"It does seem likely." Lexa agrees, brushing off the reference to The Spirit as technology. They both know the truth of her reincarnation. It is for the people that each Heda pretends otherwise.

"I don't understand why the City of Light is such a concern to you, though."

"You don't know what lies inside of it." Lexa smiles grimly "the responsibility of Heda is not just to the clans, but to this. I am gatekeeper to the City of Light. That's why I may access it without consequence."

"And what about the people besides you who enter?" Clarke asks, curious.

Lexa offers a lamenting sigh. She knows that even now, some of Clarke's people fall prey to the trappings of Sonchakapa. "To all others, the city offers lies and trickery. The things within make promises, but they really seek an escape from that prison. If your people continue to use these chips, I fear in time they may not be allowed to leave the city."

"What can we do?" Clarke asks as the worry seeps through her at Lexa's ominous words. It's clear that the infection spreading among Skaikru must be stopped, but how. More importantly: how can they do that without threatening this new relationship between Skaikru and the rest of the clans?

"I'm afraid I don't yet have an answer to that question." Lexa sighs. She can feel the initial relief brought by this bath fading and doesn't wish for it to fade entirely. "But don't worry, Clarke. I assure you the situation is well in hand for the time being." She doesn't need to mention the fact that she's been entering the City of Light at least twice daily since learning of the corruption within Skaikru.

Lexa's head nudges against Clarke's and she turns to bring their lips together. She doesn't pull away until she feels a smirk against her lips. She looks at the other woman curiously, prompting Clarke to explain herself.

"I never said I was worried."

With that, Clarke brings their lips back together as her hands resume their earlier exploration of the commander's body.

* * *

Elsewhere within the tower, Abby has made a home within the hospital area. During her time in Polis, passing the time here has fast become a favorite activity. She learns the intricacies of Grounder medicine from Nikita and Monroe, and in turn, teaches them about Skaikru's methods.

Today, they pass the time discussing the healing properties of plant-based salves on cuts. Abby has spent the greater part of the day helping the healers tend to the four Skaikru boys who rest on beds in the infirmary. It's likely that they will reside her for several days. Abby knows that they did wrong and deserved punishment. She knows that they certainly would've been killed had she not made the suggestion of a compromise at that summit, but it doesn't ease the guilt she feels at their wounded states.

She turns from applying salve to the deep cuts that line Jasper's back to see Octavia and Raven coming through the doorway. The former is quick to approach her while the latter stands to the side and waits for her turn with the woman.

"Hey." Octavia nods in a friendly gesture. "How is he?"

"Sleeping. The cuts are healing well—no infection—but they will scar." Abby explains and at once Ravens demeanor hardens as her mind wanders to the events of Pike's rule. She still can't believe that her brother—no—that stranger with her brother's face, could've been so foolish. She knows well that he deserves his punishment and far worse than that, but she's also glad to have her brother back even if his life is a blessing he doesn't deserve.

"Good." Octavia says, meeting Abby's gaze with her own, hardened by Indra's teachings. "Can you do something for me?"

"What?" Abby shakes her head in confusion and tilts her chin curiously.

"Do nothing to prevent their scarring. See that they live with their scars so they can remember what they've done."

Abby fixes the younger woman with widened eyes, but says nothing. Her mind knows that it's the fair thing to do. They were lucky and they need to remember that luck moving forward. Before she can say anything more, Bellamy begins to stir and Octavia moves to sit with him. Abby turns around to find that Raven has already made herself comfortable on the edge of a bed and her leg brace sits beside her.

"What's up doc?"

"Raven." Abby acknowledges as she moves over to the bed. "You're early." The mechanic winces slightly as Abby takes her leg in her hands and begins to stretch it.

"I was in the neighborhood." She grunts. "Thought I might as well get my therapy over with."

The doctor lets go of Raven's leg for a moment to beckon the healer woman over. Nikita stands by and watches in silence as Abby goes through the usual stretches on Raven's wounded leg. When she's finally done, she asks Raven to put weight on it without the use of her brace. The mechanic looks ambivalent for a moment, but she complies, moving off of the bed to stand on shaky legs.

The injured leg wobbles under the weight it holds and sharp pain shoots through the limb, but there is determination on Raven's face and she takes a step.

Abby watches silently as the brunette takes wobbling steps from the bed to the door and back again before she collapses back onto the bed with her breath coming out in short puffs.

"You've made progress." Abby notes. "That was impressive. You're ahead of your therapy."

"Thanks doc." Raven breathes, leaning her head back against the wall at the head of the bed as Abby starts another examination of her leg. Nikita, who had been silent, finally speaks up.

"How were you injured?"

"Don't really remember." Raven pants, and Abby's hand stops its prodding on her leg as her curious eyes snap up to the mechanic's face at the sincerity she detects. Doesn't remember? How could she have forgotten? Abby had treated her for her symptoms of PTSD related to the injury.

"She was shot."

"Was I?" Raven asks, looking up at Abby with a confusion that matches her own.

"Raven…." Abby's hands move from the woman's leg to her head, searching for any signs of injury. "Have you hit your head recently?"

Abby moves her head from left to right, watching the movement of the eyes. She turns away to grab the flashlight she'd left here and registers a "no" from Raven before she spins back around. The pupils exhibit a normal response and there is no obvious sign of head trauma. Abby is left at a loss for what's happening, but she knows it isn't good.

How could she just forget something like that so suddenly? Just days ago they had spoken of the incident.

* * *

Hey guys! Thanks for reading. As always, I hope you enjoyed it!


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